The Way of the Fox by Paul Kidd Page A

knew that you were there.” Kuno pondered carefully. “But what made them fix upon you as a suspect for murder ?”
    Chiri gave a deep sigh. She moved so that Kuno need not see the deep shame upon her face.
    “ The village head-man had chased me from the village an hour before.” The girl hung her head. “I had begged for food earlier that day. They are not like rats. There is no – no sense of communion in their hearts. He – he drove me away.” She set her shoulders. “But I did not let them see me cry.”
    “A samurai will pretend that he has eaten a banquet, even though he has dined upon nothing but grass.” Kuno gave the girl a profound bow. “My deep respects to you, Nezumi Chiri.”
    The floating rock seemed to grudgingly accept Kuno’s presence. Together, Kuno and Chiri looked up at the watchtower overhead, where the lantern had finally reached the crown. Chiri watched the dim silhouettes of Tonbo and Sura far, far above.
    “It must be very interesting, working closely with a fox, Kuno san.”
    “It has definitely been interesting so far…”
     
     
    The watchtower was definitely not a comfortable place to be. During bad weather, it would be exposed to the whims of rain, snow, wind and hail. In high summer, it might, however, catch a cooling breeze or two. Sura made her way up the ladder, eyes wincing from the smoke coming from the lantern held in her teeth. She slowed as she reached the last few rungs, and approached the murder scene with silence, dedication and stealth.
    A body lay upon the small wooden platform. Sura halted, checking the area carefully, then quietly climbed up. She made space for Tonbo, careful to disturb nothing at the scene.
    An old peasant lay slumped against the upright posts. The dead man’s eyes bulged – his tongue was swollen – and yet in the light of the lantern, his face seemed pale. There was a very faint acrid scent in the air.
    He had been an old man – grey haired, but still strong and solid. His hands were calloused with work – his robes had been darned and mended neatly many times. Sura looked upon the old man’s body, and her heart sank into sadness.
    “Oh no.”
    There were offices to perform before other work could begin. Sura knelt beside the body. She bowed her head, drew in a breath, and then lifted her face and opened out her hands in prayer.
    A faint, gentle light sparkled in her hands.
     
    “ Peace. Let no souls grieve.
     
    There is a vessel that has no sides
    Infinite, it can never be filled.
    Eternal, it may never be emptied.
    Fathomless, it is the origin of all things.
    Coming from the eternal – returning to the eternal… What is there, then, that can ever be truly lost?
    Drift now in the fountain of all being, and be filled with boundless joy. ”
     
    Tonbo waited until she had finished. He nodded his head in approval, then came fully up onto the platform.
    They examined the body together, one each side of the corpse, working with immense care and exact attention. Sura held the lantern while Tonbo checked the body carefully for signs.
    The neck of the body showed livid marks, as though broad bands had tightened about the dead man’s throat. The open mo uth, bulging eyes and tongue seemed to imply strangulation, and yet the body was entirely pale. Sura examined the man’s throat, looking carefully at the damage.
    The larynx had been crushed. It would have taken immense physical strength. The dead man had never even managed to call out in alarm.
    Tonbo sat back and looked thoughtfully at the platform.
    “The nezumi. If she turned into rat form, she could have climbed up here silently, without being seen.”
    “But to do what? Naked, stranglin g this guy with her bare hands? Bopping him with her rock elemental?”
    “She is clearly a magician. A shugenja .”
    Shugenja – adepts who summoned the elemental spirits – were rare. Some legendary figures had indeed been powerful. But elemental spirits never caused unprovoked harm. It