Secret Places and Hidden Things

Chapter Seventeen

There was a creak as the door opened. A fox came trotting in, rubbing against the side of Daerk's chair and jumping into his lap. He stroked its head and it leaned over heavily, rocking the chair back on its legs for a moment.

"Oof, silly fox," Daerk said.

"A fox?" Jain said. She narrowed her eyes. "I know this fox. Last time I saw it, it didn't have skin."

The fox bared its teeth and growled under its breath.

"No doubt you've met Marelle then."

"Is that her name? I've seen her a few times."

"Ah," Daerk said, "I could see that." He looked at her, blinking slowly, one of his fingers tracing patterns in the air beside him absentmindedly.

"How did the fox recover after losing its skin?" Jain asked.

"Michael was kind enough to lend the fox his cloak. I don't think it fits quite right though."

Daerk grabbed a hunk of the foxes skin and pulled. It came away much further than it should have, like a long furry clump of blanket. The fox turned around sharply and snapped its jaws at his hand.

"Sorry, little fox."

The fox got up and leapt off the chair. It shook itself, then licked its flanks and shook again, whining quietly.

"I wonder if we could get the fox's skin back," Jain said. It looked up at her, its eyes unreadable.

"Maybe," Daerk said. "That would be rather hard, though. She stole it because she thinks she needs it to create meaning for herself. That kind of possession is the strongest form of attachment. Breaking it would require convincing her she doesn't need it."

"Really? We couldn't just steal it back? I mean, the fox was probably pretty attached to it as well."

"Yes and no," Daerk said. "We take something like skin for granted, so we don't posses it the same way. If you just took the skin back, it would still belong to Marelle, even if the fox was wearing it."

"But that's not fair! It is a piece of the fox!"

Daerk could only shrug. The fox walked over to the door, looking back over its shoulder.

"I think it wants you to follow," Daerk said.

Jain got up and followed the fox to the door. There was a long hallway with many tall windows reaching upward.

"This is a different hall from where I came in," Jain said.

"Oh yes, the rooms all like to change and shift as you—" Daerk's voice was cut off as the door clicked shut. The fox was trotting on ahead of her, so she followed. Somewhere far off, she heard a window breaking. The fox stopped and turned its head sharply.

"What was that?" Jain asked it. If it heard her, it didn't acknowledge.

The fox padded slowly up to a door and sniffed at it, then sat down. It looked at Jain over its shoulder.

"This one?" She moved to open the door, but it sprang open on its own and a torrent of water came pouring out, knocking her off her feet. A deep rumbling filled the air and several large fish came flopping out through the doorway and into the hall. One was larger than her whole body. The door shut with a snap.

The water oozed across the floor, seeping into the rug as it crawled along the far end of the corridor and around a bend out of sight. The fox was still sitting where it had been, like an island of calm. It was perfectly dry with a dry ring around it on the rug.

With an air of expectation it watched the door. Jain stood back up, looking around at the mess of fish. They flopped wetly, slapping at the ground in erratic rhythms. Suddenly, at the end of the corridor, they started to explode into flames, water splashing up around them and spraying the walls. Jain didn't know what to do. After the first few explosions a chain reaction started and quickly made its way past them, fiery shrapnel filling the air and raining down around her, ashes sizzling as they landed in the water. Still, the fox stood quietly, watching the doorway without moving.

The door burst open again. This time, long vines crawled out along the walls, grabbing at the stonework and dragging it back through the doorway. The water drained through the hole as it widened, and soon the walls were gone, replaced by rushing stonework and dancing trees. Ferns and bushes whipped past like a stampede. An archway came speeding towards them, stopping dead as it hit the place the door used to be. Other archways smashed into place forming a long hallway, and then a door slammed shut behind them and was still.

The fox, who had remained unmoving through all of this, got up and began to trot down the new hallway. Jain followed. A dim light was shining from between the archways, illuminating everything from below with a pale ghostly blue. The fox stopped again at a doorway, sniffing, and then turned to Jain. The hair on the back of its neck standing on end.

Jain hesitated a moment, then opened the door. A grisly scene met her eyes—blood spattered walls and the sickly smell of iron.

"This is it?" Jain asked the fox. It looked up at her, the whites of its eyes showing. Its tail was fluffed out like a feather duster. It seemed to be trying to walk into the room, but it would stop before the door and walk away sideways on its toes, growling in a small voice.

"You can do it," Jain said. "Would it help if I went in first?"

The fox rubbed against the door frame, and growled again.

Jain stepped into the room. The air felt thick, like the sent of gore had gelled the air. Jain pushed forward until she was standing in the center. A rope was hanging above her, cut and frayed harshly at the end. Another set of ropes lay on the floor.

The fox was still standing in the doorway, its head low and its tail tucked tightly between its legs. It moved from one side to the other in a slow zigzag, its nose entering the room before backing away.

"Come along, little fox. Lets get out of here."

Jain bent down and picked up a broken piece of brickwork from the floor. She hefted it for a moment in her hand, then threw it full force at the window. The window shattered like snow, bursting outward slowly into a fine powder, leaving the frame clear and smooth.

The fox startled at the sound, leaping into the room and slipping sideways on the bloody floor. It skidded for a moment, then threw itself at the window with a yelp, flying through into the open air. Jain followed, and they ran out into the trees. It was raining, but it was warm, and the fresh scent of pine made her feel clean. When she looked back, the helm had disappeared.

After a while, the fox stopped by the edge of a stream, dipping its paws repeatedly and shaking them off. Jain copied it, washing her hands and feet. The fox had come for her and taken her through its ordeal. Whether that was for its own sake, or for hers, she wasn't sure. She thought about what Daerk had said. Maybe the fox was helping her understand. It had experienced some kind of ending in that room—though, what it had learned from it was a mystery to her.