Chapter 31

Choking, I struggle to stand upright, my arms and legs leaden. She wades into the pool and lunges for me, her fingers gripping my wrist. Under her touch, all the warmth floods back into my body. Half-dragged, half-crawling, I make it to solid ground.

“Breathe!” Gwen commands.

I hack up some tepid water, and she whacks me on the back. I take a few experimental breaths, the air whistling in my windpipe. I’m shaking all over. I know you can’t die in dreams, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t just scared shitless of drowning.

“Tavian, are you okay?” she says. “Answer me!”

“I’m okay,” I rasp. I give her an approximation of a grin. “Don’t worry.”

The fear on her face warps into fury. “Don’t worry? I thought you were dead! Was this some sort of—”

“Gwen,” I say. “This is a dream. You’re dreaming.”

“A dream? But—” Her face twists. “Don’t tell me you’re actually dead.”

“No! I entered your dream so I could talk to you.”

Understanding dawns on her face. “Tavian, your grandparents have been looking for you—but the police haven’t been able to find anything, and we all thought… where are you?”

“In Shinjuku Gyoen.” I climb to my feet and take her shoulders in my hands. “Gwen, how fast can you get here?”

“It must be almost midnight, but I could catch the last metro and be there in maybe twenty minutes? Half an hour? I’m not sure.” She stares into my eyes. “Are you safe there?”

“I’m hidden. I dug a little den for myself in the snow.”

Her eyebrows descend. “You’re a fox? But you haven’t—”

“Long story.” I shake my head. “Let’s wake up and meet before the inugami catch up with me.”

She nods, then snatches a kiss from me. “I’ll be there.”

I kiss her back, then blink myself awake.

~

I wait in my snow-cocoon with only my nose poking into the icy air. The sounds of the world above me are muffled, the roar of traffic no more than a distant humming. My eyelids droop, and I drift in and out of consciousness. The snow creaks under footsteps.

“Tavian! Are you here?”

My eyes snap open. I wriggle out of the den, clawing away snow, and poke my head into the air.

Gwen stands with her back to me, searching the darkness. Her curls fly behind her head, tangling with snow-clotted wind. I leap from the den and run to her. Shocks of pain jolt up my stiff legs. I bark and nip at her ankle, and she whirls to face me.

“Tavian!” Gwen falls to her knees. “I found you!”

It’s all I can do not to bound into her arms like an excited kit-fox. I restrain myself and lick her hand. She dusts off the snow clumped on my pelt, her hands chapped and red.

“I took the last metro,” she says. “But I have money for a taxi.”

I nod and shake myself off, flinging her hand and the last of the snow away. I nudge her knee with my nose. Gwen slings a pack off her back and digs out some clothes. My clothes.

“Hurry and change back,” she says. “I’ll keep a look out.”

I shake my head.

“It’s not that cold. Come on, we need to hurry.” Gwen narrows her eyes. “Can you not change back?”

I nod.

She swears under her breath. “Well, we’re going anyway.”

I bound ahead of her in the snow, my legs sinking deep. I still feel wobbly and woozy, but at least I’m awake. Gwen marches alongside me, shoves through a hedge, and steps onto the street. I glance around with my sharp eyes and nose, making sure we’re safe.

Cars whoosh along the road, their tires spraying slush. A yellow taxi pulls around the corner, and I yip. Gwen darts to the edge of the road, jumping up and down and waving her arms. The taxi pulls up alongside us and the taxi driver stares at us.

“Akasaka,” she says.

The taxi driver keeps staring. “Where in Akasaka?” he says.

In Japanese, of course—most taxi drivers don’t speak English. But Gwen is prepared for this. She thrusts a piece of paper at the man, and I glimpse my grandparents’ address written in Japanese. The taxi driver grunts and the back door swings open automatically. Gwen climbs inside and I slink in after her, hiding at her feet.

The taxi driver glances at the address, then pulls into traffic.

“Almost there,” Gwen whispers to me.

The swerving and jolting of the taxi makes me carsick, so I close my eyes until the taxi stops again. I crane my neck to see out the windows. The skyscraper where my grandparents live towers above us. Gwen pays the driver and he lets us out on the street. When I hop out, his eyes bug, and he accelerates faster than he should.

The doorman holds the door for me with no more than a frown. Maybe he already knows I’m a kitsune. It’s bizarre padding across the marble floor of the lobby on paws. My fur bristles against people’s stares. If only I knew an illusion for invisibility.

We climb into the waiting elevator. As soon as the doors click shut, Gwen turns to me. “I know you can’t talk right now, but seriously, what happened? Did you just run off again without telling anyone? Or were you actually abducted this time?”

Obviously, she would be angry at me.

She exhales. “You can tell me later.”

The elevator doors ding open. The thirty-eighth floor.

“Better be quiet,” Gwen whispers. She fishes a key from her pocket. “I snuck out of here while your grandparents were still sleeping. They would go ballistic if they found me missing, too.”

She opens the door and light spills into the hallway.

“Oh no,” she mutters under her breath. “They woke up?”

My legs lock outside the doorway. I sniff the air, my nose twitching. No stink of dog—but the sweetness of jasmine tea.

“Is it safe?” Gwen whispers.

I’m not sure, but I step inside anyway.

The living room is empty. I creep along the wall and peer into the dining room. Michiko is pouring a cup of steaming tea for a stranger who kneels with his back to me. He murmurs his thanks and bends his head to sip. The light glints on his sleek iron-gray hair.

He beat me home.

Gwen slips off her shoes in the genkan and walks ahead of me, her shoulders tense. She stands in the doorway of the dining room and clears her throat. “We have a guest?”

“Did we wake you?” Tsuyoshi leans into my view. He frowns at Gwen. “Why is there snow in your hair?”

“I… went out,” she says. “Who is he?”

But I already know. I don’t need him to stand and gracefully bow to Gwen, to speak in that soft voice of his.

“Zenjiro Matsuzawa. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

She hesitates. “Gwen.”

“We apologize for our guest’s sudden arrival,” Michiko says, and it’s not clear whether she means Gwen or Zenjiro. “Please, everyone, sit and have some tea. It’s a cold night.”

Why is Zenjiro here? Why are they acting like it’s okay?

Gwen steps into the dining room, and I duck back into the shadows. But it’s too late. As the others return to the table, Zenjiro lingers, then strolls to the doorway and meets my eyes.

“Michiko,” he says, “please pour another cup. Octavian is here.”