雪上加霜
Xuě shàng jiā shuāng
Snow and then frost.
One disaster after another.

*~*~*~*~*~*

As often happened when I retreated too far into my mind, a memory found me.

Torch light illuminated the lower branches of the pine trees that surrounded the clearing, but their tops, jet black, stretched up to the starry night sky.

A furious snarling filled my ears.

I approached the pit in the center of the clearing. It was dug deep in the earth, and then surrounded with wooden posts shaved to spikes to make doubly sure what was held within did not escape.

I felt certain that with the amount of snarling that was coming from the pit, a whole pack of rabid dogs must be trapped inside, trying to claw each other's throats out.

Instead, when I reached the edge of the pit and looked down, the torchlight showed a single beast.

It was big, big as a horse but with legs shorter, and closer to a dog's. The body was strangely distorted, the gaping rib cage narrowing to a much too small middle, as though the organs contained there were not essential.

Fur covered parts of its body, but in places bare skin showed through. This skin was not pale, and rough, as dog or wolf skin commonly was, but creamy and pink.

I looked to the creatures' paws, where they clawed at the dirt of the pit. Except they were not paws, they were hands, and feet, that had been stretched and twisted. Black nails, grotesque, but human, grew from the ends of each finger and toe.

And finally the head.

The head, yes that had been human once. But no more. A jaw, that jutted out, ears that pointed and stretched toward the top of the misshapen skull. And eyes, so black, as though two jet stones had been inserted in the skull.

The creature, monster, animal, whatever it was, ripped around the floor of the pit, snarling at nothing, tearing at the dirt, as though trying to take its rage out on the air around it.

"What do you think?" asked a voice beside me.

"It is disgusting," I said, not taking my eyes from the monster. As I spoke, the animal turned and snapped its jaws up at me. Spittle from the distorted mouth flew through the air, gleaming in the torch light.

"It is supposed to be efficient, not beautiful. It is made to kill."

I forced my eyes away from the creature to the man standing beside me. His face was in shadow, but I saw pink lips, pretty enough to be a woman's, quirked in an amused smile.

His forearms were bare, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and in the torchlight, the black swirls inked onto them seemed to move.

"What is it?" I asked, turning to look down at the thing in the pit once more.

"It was man once. But now it is not. I intended something like a wolf, and this is as close as I got. The Old Black Lord had his loyal wolves, and I will have mine."

"Conceit," I said. I rested my arms atop the wooden stakes, gripping the pointed tops beneath my hands. "The Wild Wolves of the old lord swore their allegiance willingly. No one will agree to become such a monster."

The beautiful lips curled further. "Oh, you'd be surprised what men will do, when faced with death."

"Ao?"

I blinked. The man beside me would not dare call me so informally. Who was—

"Ao!"

I opened my eyes.

I was back in the cave, on that gods blasted pile of badger smelling leaves.

Stones rattling echoed around the small cave. Zakhar was trying to pull his bulk through the narrow entrance. He succeeded, and staggered toward me.

"What the hell is he doing, leaving you here like this? Gods Ao, there's so much blood."

I looked around the cave. There was a lot of blood, leading in a trail across the cave floor to where I lay. Kageyama must have dragged me here.

Around my leg, the leaves were shining wet.

Zakhar carefully pulled away at the ruined fabric of my pant leg. "Here, let's get you back to the cabin so I can clean this properly."

"Cabin?" I asked faintly.

"Kageyama and I found a hunter's cabin, fully stocked but empty. We've been staying there while we search for you and Sanli."

"Zakhar—" I started to tell him.

"Shhh, rest," Zakhar hushed me. He scooped me up in his arms with ease, then clutched me against him to crawl out the entrance.

My consciousness kept fading in and out. I dimly remembered Zakhar holding me against him, like a child, and then mounting Dunya. Behind us, the dead bulk of the monster grew smaller as we rode away.

I must have drifted away once more, for I did not know how far we rode, or how we got up the cliffs around the river. The next thing I knew we were dismounting again in the forest.

Hidden beneath the low bows of the firs, a log made cabin sat. It was small, no bigger than one room. It's golden window glowed invitingly through the gloom beneath the trees, its light shining yellow on the snow.

Ah, this is what he meant by cabin.

The snow had fallen thicker here than by the river, and it piled against the trunks of trees. Zakhar's boots crunched into it as he dropped from the saddle.

The cabin was built into a hill, and raised on a stone foundation. Beneath the cabin, a small stable had been built, low and shadowed but warm and sheltered from the snow.

Zakhar led Dunya into the stable and removed her bridle with one hand, still holding me awkwardly against him. Then, shutting the stable door, he turned and made his way toward the cabin entrance.

I need to tell him.

The forest air was sharp with the smell of sap and cold. My head felt clearer. The shake of Zakhar's steps as he carried me in his arms further helped rouse me.

The sun was already growing low in the west. How had a whole day already passed?

I had to tell him. "Zakhar, I was bitten," I said.

Zakhar froze, foot on the lowest step of the cabin. I saw, from close, the anguish on his face. It tore my heart.

"Do not worry. I have Yan- The Golden Emperor's seals. Five of them," I said hurriedly. "I think they will prevent Hei...the Black Lord's curse from turning me."

"Think?" Zakhar questioned in a dull voice. As though he had already given up.

"I am almost certain."

Zakhar resumed walking up the steps, boots heavy. "Do not tell Kageyama you were bitten. Not a word."

I was sure the kitsune already knew, but I nodded, for Zakhar's sake.

Zakhar pushed open the door. Inside the cabin was as I had imagined from the outside, small, rustic, with furniture made from the same light wood as the plank walls of the cabin. The light wood gave the cabin a bright, clean feel.

It is warm.

It was. A merry fire burned in the stone hearth across from the door. A big black kettle bubbled over it. A perfect, quaint scene.

There was a surprise inside the cottage, and it was a pleasant one: a small kang built out of bricks stood in the corner, piled with furs.

The prince lay atop it, face pale. Kageyama sat beside him.

"How is he?" I asked.

Kageyama looked up as we entered. "I gave him sheep's foil, to help him sleep. He is exhausted by fever, but he will be alright."

I sighed with relief.

Zakhar sat me down on one of the wooden chairs. With shaking hands he pulled the remains of my trouser down, to hide the gaping teeth marks in my right leg.

Kageyama came toward us, carrying bandages. "I will treat her wounds," said Zakhar quickly, taking the roll of cloth.

He did, using the boiled water from the kettle to clean my injury gently, so gently I only had to bite my lip to steel myself. Zakhar kept his eyes on my leg, dabbing and rinsing, until nothing remained but a line of dark round holes.

They were undoubtedly teeth marks.

Zakhar hurriedly began to bind up the wound, messily wrapping the bandages in his rush to get the punctures out of sight.

"That was a nasty gash, those rocks gave you," said Zakhar, a little too loudly. "But you're all patched up now."

I almost smiled. He was a terrible actor. I understood now why Ermi had not given him a role in the play.

"Zakhar," said Kageyama from behind the big man. I had not heard him cross the cabin.

Zakhar again, in a too loud, too cheerful voice, said "All patched up."

"Zakhar," Kageyama repeated softly. His sword had appeared in his hand. "I left her in that cave for a reason."

Zakhar stared down at my leg.

Then in a whirl of speed I had not expected from the big man, he turned, mid crouch, and launched himself at Kageyama. "What—"

Zakhar wrapped his thick arms around Kageyama, pinning the kitsune's arms against his sides as he drove the smaller man back, against the wall.

"Zakhar, wait!" I said.

Both men impacted the wall with enough force to make the cabin shake. China stacked in a cupboard rattled, and the kettle over the fire swung on its hook.

"Zakhar you fool, get—" said Kageyama, struggling to free himself.

But Zakhar, with preemptive ruthlessness I was sure had helped him survive his time as a mercenary, drew his head back and brought it crashing down on Kageyama's own.

The kitsune slumped in Zakhar's arms. Zakhar stepped away, swaying unsteadily. Kageyama slid to the floor, unconscious against the wall.

I tried to stand, shakily, on my injured leg, then gave up and sank down. "Is he—"

"He won't die from something like this," said Zakhar, looking around the cabin. I realized he was looking for something to tie Kageyama with. He found a bundle of rough hemp rope in the corner, stacked with other tools. He grabbed it and quickly approached Kageyama.

I looked over to Sanli. The little prince was still in his herb induced sleep, face pale.

Zakhar looped the hemp around Kageyama's arms. "Zakhar, we could have just explained to him about my seals. I'm sure he would have listened. He's seen them."

My voice shook. I was unnerved, not by the violence, but by the fact it was my kind, gentle friend who had perpetrated it.

Zakhar gave a firm shake of his head. "Kageyama doesn't take risks. I won't either. I know he won't wait for you to turn. He'll kill you now."

I was taken aback. "You don't know that," I said. But then I saw Kageyama's sword, where it had fallen on the floor, and wondered why the kitsune had had it in his hand.

Zakhar had tied Kageyama's arms, and was moving on to the kitsune's hands when I saw Kageyama's foot twitch.

"Zakhar—!"

Kageyama twisted, sweeping Zakhar's feet out from under him. The big man crashed to the floor and the cabin shook again. Still, Sanli slept in the corner.

Before Zakhar could rise Kageyama had cut away the hemp ropes with the flick of the knife that appeared in his hand. Zakhar tried to turn and catch Kageyama's legs like the kitsune had just done to him, but Kageyama nimbly leapt over Zakhar's curving kick.

The kitsune landed on Zakhar's back and drove the big man to the ground with one knee and surprising force.  Zakhar reached back, trying to grab Kageyama and pull him off his back, but the fox caught the huge arm reaching for him and twisted it, pinning Zakhar against the floor.

Zakhar struggled, but was unable to free himself. I was surprised, the ease with which Kageyama had pinned the much larger man to the floor. But then Kageyama was mu'ren.

"Zakhar you idiot, if you had let me finish, I would have told you that I wasn't going to kill her. But I will not let her stay here in the cabin, with Sanli," said Kageyama.

Zakhar stopped struggling. "Why did you get your sword then?"

"Because I knew you were about to do something foolish." Kageyama went to stand, then stopped and leaned to slam Zakhar's head none too gently into the wooden floor. Zakhar groaned. "That's for near breaking my skull," the kitsune said.

Rubbing his head, Zakhar sat up.

Kageyama stood, muttering, and gathered up the remains of the hemp rope. He threw them at Zakhar's feet.

"Go tie her to a tree, at least 100 lengths from the cabin," he ordered.

Zakhar stood, shaking his head. "I'm not tying her out in the snow like a dog-"

"Well she wouldn't be in the snow if you had just left her in the damn cave like I intended," Kageyama snapped.

Zakhar hesitated, rope in his hand.

I put a hand on his arm. "I agree with Kageyama, Zakhar. It is not safe for me to be here. Get me some furs and help me stand."

Zakhar looked like he would argue more, but instead he went to grab furs from the kang.

*~*~*~*~*~*