The Fox's God by Anna Frost Page A

to the ground as if the thing were on fire. Sanae scooted away, a wise move. Just because these swords didn’t currently seem strong enough to hurt her or anyone else without direct contact—not without the help of an energy sink anyway—didn’t mean she should be careless.
    “I accept your challenge,” Hachiro intoned. He lumbered closer, hands curled into meaty fists.
    Jien dove low, extending a leg and swiping the man off his feet. “First strike!”
    A hand closed about his ankle and dragged him down. Oh, whoops.
    Somewhere near, Yuki’s puzzled voice said, “What’s going on? Are we fighting now?”
    Sanae’s voice answered, You picked a bad time to wander off. You missed all the fun.
    Jien didn’t hear the rest of the conversation because a fist hit him in the face, splitting his lip.
    He spat bloody saliva and grinned. “You hit like a scribe!”

Chapter Five
    Sanae
    T he expedition numbered no more than twenty men—plus two women. None of them appeared to have anything important to do, because they’d all wandered over to watch the ongoing fist fight. Hachiro’s friends drank sake from the bottle, shouting incoherent encouragement. At times they seemed to get confused about which fighter they were cheering for.
    The scribe swooped down on the gathering when he returned, mouth gone flat with ire. Sanae intercepted him, talking fast. You said no swords. They’re not using any.
    She didn’t need to bring out her second argument—the other guy started it!—as the scribe halted and said, “That is true. I suppose they can hardly addle their wits worse than they already are.” He stayed, either out of morbid fascination or out of a sense of duty to ensure nobody died.
    The fight didn’t so much come to an end as devolve into a halfhearted shoving match between two equally sweaty, exhausted men.
    “Good fight,” Jien said, flat on his back.
    “You have courage and tenacity,” Hachiro said. “I shall be pleased to go into battle with you.”
    “You’re not bad yourself.”
    Somebody passed down sake and the former opponents shared it like they were the best of friends. The empty bottle rolled past Sanae’s feet moments later. Would they still be friends when they woke in the morning feeling every bruise they’d given each other? She certainly wasn’t going to waste energy healing either of them!
    Yuki stared. “Are they bonding over beating each other up? They’re bonding over beating each other up.”
    “Warriors” the scribe sniffed.
    “Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing with you violent people,” Yuki said. His smile and the way he jostled Akakiba’s shoulder with his own, made it a jest rather than a serious complaint. “Nobody would believe I was meant to be a priest like my father.”
    Jien waved pathetically from his position on the ground. “Aki, help. I can’t get up.”
    “Don’t call me that,” Akakiba said. But he got up and went, anyway.
    The scribe turned to Yuki with a curious expression on his face. “I’m sorry, I overheard you say you’re a priest’s son. However did you come to be a samurai?”
    “A demon burned down our shrine and Akakiba took me in. The rest just happened.”
    “How unfortunate. But surely something could be arranged, if you wished to return to your roots.”
    “I’m content with my life.”
    The scribe looked put out. “Why would you prefer a life of violence and danger over a life of helping others and gathering knowledge?”
    “You don’t think demon hunters help others? Knowledge from scrolls is good, but experiencing the world first hand is the best way to learn new things.”
    “I wouldn’t know.”
    Sanae glided over. Yuki knows more about our clan than any priest or scribe ever will. And he’s discovered things about great dragons nobody’s ever known.
    The scribe’s annoyingly perfect eyebrows went up. “Such as?”
    Yuki, tell him about their language.
    “I’d rather not,” Yuki said stiffly. Sanae wasn’t