Sunlight jabbed Mitsu’s eyes, and he groaned. His head ached. “What happened?” he asked.
“What does it look like?” Kitsu said. “The humans captured us.” He tapped the irons bars of the cage with one of his tails.
“What happened to Father?” Mitsu stumbled to his feet. Dizziness struck him, and his ears rang.
Kitsu shook his head. “I don’t know. They carried him off, and I haven’t seen him since. We should have never come here.”
Mitsu looked through the bars, trying to ignore his headache. The human town surrounded them. Men relaxed a short distance away, watching them. Their spears rested at arm’s length. Other than the men, the village was empty. Mitsu felt disappointed. He had expected the humans to show more interest in a pair of foxes. A sudden thought chilled him. Maybe they hunt foxes regularly. That would explain how they could have surprised Father as they did. But why didn’t Father struggle or try to escape?
Mitsu pressed his nose against the bars. “If we could change into mice, we could escape. The bars are big enough for a mouse to easily fit through.”
Kitsu shook his head. “I don’t know how to change my shape. I wish Father was here, but I have an idea that might work.”
“An idea?”
“We have to wait until one of them gets closer,” Kitsu said. “Until then we should keep trying with your mouse idea. Maybe we can figure out how to do it.”
Mitsu closed his eyes and concentrated on an image of a mouse. He imagined his tail turning into the thin tail of a mouse. He pictured himself shrinking small enough to make it through the bars. As he focused, his dizziness and headache faded.
He opened his eyes.
Nothing had changed. Kitsu sat still with his eyes closed and his brow wrinkled with concentration.
Movement pulled Mitsu’s gaze toward the building where the humans rested. An old man limped toward the fox brothers. He leaned on a cane as he walked, and his sparse hair waved in the breeze. He wore a robe made from the same course material as the other men. His crooked back reminded Mitsu of a scared cat.
Only the man looked far from scared.
“I know you can understand me, and I can understand you,” the old man said. “We’ve had enough of your kind’s tricks.”
“But, sir. I am not actually a fox. Neither is my s-sister,” Kitsu said. He opened his eyes and gazed at the man. “We were cursed by the fox you captured. Now that he is away I feel the curse lifting.”
Suddenly, Kitsu shifted into the shape of a woman crouched in the cage. His thin hands gripped the bars. “My bro—sister should return to normal too any moment.”
Mitsu took the hint and concentrated on weaving his illusion. Kitsu’s small nod told him he must have succeeded. Mitsu wished he could see his own illusions. It would reduce the guesswork.
Kitsu smiled at the old man. “Thank you so much for freeing us. You couldn’t imagine what we went through.”
Without a word, the old man shoved his cane into the cage and rapped each of the foxes. Their illusions burst into a thin cloud of smoke. “You can’t fool me, foxes,” he said. “I know of your tricks.”
Fear dried Mitsu’s mouth. Beside him, Kitsu’s tails shivered. “We haven’t done anything to you,” Kitsu said.
“Perhaps and perhaps not,” the old man said. “But we have need of you. You see, an illness has swept through our town, and there is only one cure.”
“What is it?” Mitsu asked. He didn’t like how fear made his voice shake. “We will get it for you if you let us go free.”
The old man stared at Mitsu. Despite trying to keep a brave front, Mitsu heard himself whimper. “We need your livers,” the old man said.
Kitsu growled. “Just try it.”
Mitsu sank to the ground. He knew their only hope now was turning into mice and running away. The humans wouldn’t be able to catch them then.
The old man rapped his cane against the cage and gestured at the men. The men grabbed their spears and formed a circle around the imprisoned foxes. Several carried ropes tied with nooses that they lowered into the cage. Mitsu felt a surge of panic and snapped at the ropes, but the straw weave resisted his jaws. The small cage offered scant room to move so it took little time for the men to lasso his neck. Beside him, Kitsu twisted to try to remove the noose from around his neck.
The man holding the rope tugged, and Mitsu felt the knot tighten against his throat. He pulled away from the rope in a panic, making the noose’s knot squeeze. He fought down his fear and forced himself to stand still. Struggling would only make things worse.
The old man unlocked the cage, and the men dragged the fox brothers from it. Mitsu stopped his struggle and let them drag him across the cobblestones. He focused on changing into a mouse. It was their last chance. If he could transform, the loop would be too big to hold him, and he would be too small for the men to catch. He heard Kitsu whimper beside him. The sound kept breaking his concentration.
The movement stopped. He was running out of time. Mitsu scrunched his eyes and willed himself to transform into a mouse. I have to do this! Fur. Small tail. He imagined his nose changing into that of a mouse. He imagined growing a mouse’s whiskers and rounded ears. Suddenly, his head spun and he felt disoriented. He felt the tight loop around his throat loosen and fall away. He gasped, and he snapped his eyes open.
Mitsu felt strange and placed a small, pink paw to his forehead. He blinked and stared at it. He felt long whiskers twitch, and his tail felt odd as if it was too long. He glanced about to see an enormous rope coiled around him. He glanced up. The humans towered over him. I did it. I turned into a mouse.
“Get him. Don’t let him get away,” the old man said.
The humans bent. To Mitsu’s mouse eyes, they looked like great trees leaning over. The sight disoriented him, but he had little time to consider the feeling. He darted through hands that tried to grab him. His mouse legs carried him over feet the size of small boulders. He dodged out into the street and toward the nearest building. He slipped into a hole, hearing a thud as one of the men collided with the wooden door. Mitsu ran under a desk and collapsed, breathing hard.
I have to save Kitsu somehow, he thought. If I can find Father, we can save him. Father will know what to do.
The door slid open, slashing sunlight across the dark room. Several of the men fanned into the room, and the old man darkened the streaming sunlight.
“I know you are in here. That was terrible of you to abandon your brother,” he said. “Flush him out.”
The men began overturning furniture, kicking up enough dust to make Mitsu sneeze.
“I hear you,” the old man said. “You can’t escape.”
How can an old man hear a mouse’s sneeze? Mitsu wondered, but he had no time to dwell on the thought.
The desk sheltering Mitsu flipped, and he ran toward the old man. “If I can just get between his legs, I can go find Father,” he whispered to himself.
The old man stomped down on Mitsu’s tail as he tried to pass. Pain shot from Mitsu’s tail. He struggled to slide his tail out from under the man’s sandal, but he might as well have tugged at a mountain. The old man bent, scooped up Mitsu, and held him dangling by his tail. “So you want to find your Father? Do you think he can save you?” the old man asked.
Mitsu swallowed his panic. If I can turn back into a fox…He closed his eyes and willed himself to return to his fox shape. The dizziness struck, and he felt himself grow heavier. He felt his nose extend, and the long mouse whiskers retract. He heard the old man curse and felt himself falling. By the time his front paws touched the floor, he felt like his old self. As soon as all four of his feet settled on the wooden floor, he opened his eyes and lunged at the old man. Mitsu intended to knock the old man out of the way, but the old man danced aside with unnatural agility. Mitsu ran.
He burst outside. His momentum threatened to send him sprawling, but somehow he kept on his feet and tore across the road. He bowled over a few of the village men who lingered and raced toward his brother. Kitsu still lay in the center of the street. A hunter with a long, pointed nose held his leash. Why doesn’t Kitsu fight? Mitsu growled and crashed into the man holding Kitsu’s leash, sending the man sprawling into the dirt.
“Let’s find Father and get out of here.” Mitsu helped Kitsu shrug off the noose.
Kitsu shivered. “I thought you had left me.”
“I couldn’t do that to you. You’re my older brother,” Mitsu said. He looked over his shoulder to see the villages racing toward them. “Come on.” He ran, and Kitsu ran after.
“Where could Father be?” Mitsu asked.
“I didn’t see where they took him,” Kitsu said. Without the noose around his neck, his voice sounded more certain. “We will have to find him.”
They ran through the streets, leaving the slow-moving humans behind. Mitsu chose a random side street, and Kitsu followed. They weaved through the narrow lanes in their search. Where is Father?
“I don’t see any other humans. Don’t you think that is strange? There were a lot more of them earlier,” Mitsu said.
“Maybe they are all inside.”
Mitsu shook his head. “I don’t think so. Something feels off with all of this.”
They rounded a corner and saw their father. Ropes bound each of his nine-tails, and more ropes bound his legs. The cords looped around wooden stakes driven into the packed dirt. He sat alone in the street without even a single guard.
Mitsu stopped. “Something is wrong.”
Kitsu slowed to a walk. “Let’s get Father and get out of here.”
Father’s tails strained against the ropes. “Boys, come and help me.”
Suddenly, Mitsu understood what was wrong. “Stop, Kitsu! That’s not Father.”
“How can it not be Father?”
“That isn’t him,” Mitsu said. A rope couldn’t tie down a tail illusion, and this fox has all nine of his tails tied down.
“What are you talking about?” Kitsu asked.
Mitsu opened his mouth to reveal Father’s secret but hesitated. “Just trust me,” he said instead. “That is not Father.”
“Perceptive little fox aren’t you?” The fake grimaced and a plume of smoke burst around him. When the smoke cleared, the old man stood before the fox brothers.
A human shape-shifter? Mitsu swallowed. I didn’t think that was possible.
The look of shock on Kitsu’s face told him it shouldn’t have been possible. “Wh-what did you do with Father?” Kitsu asked.
“Stupid foxes. It was me the whole time,” the old man said. He waved his hand.
Armed villagers filled the street and surrounded the fox brothers. The men held their spears at the ready.
Mitsu glanced around. The men wore amused smiles that chilled him. Beside him, Kitsu whimpered.
“No more games,” said the old man. “We will have your livers now.” He gestured at the men.
Mitsu closed his eyes to turn back into a mouse, but he stopped and looked at his brother, who lay in the dirt with his paws over his eyes. While Mitsu could transform and get away, the men would certainly kill Kitsu. Mitsu didn’t want to die. But can I live knowing that I left my brother behind?
“I won’t leave you, Kitsu.”
Kitsu removed a paw from an eye and regarded his younger brother. Mitsu met his gaze and tried to feel brave. He tried to feel pride in dying as a fox should. Tried and failed. Fear made his tail quiver and his heart race.
The men shouted and charged from all sides. Their deadly spears thrust ahead of them. Their iron points glimmered in the bright sunlight.
