The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

The instant the candle wick caught fire, the Earl of Black Crag seized a lychee. Because the fruits were so fresh – had just been shot from a tree, in fact – the shells were soft and pliable, not brittle as they often were by the time they reached the City of Dawn Song.

I watched in horrified fascination as he jabbed a thumbnail through the shell with no care for tidiness or aesthetics. When he broke the translucent flesh of the lychee too, clear juices welled up and flowed over his fingers. He ripped off the rest of the shell, dropped it onto the table, and popped the whole fruit into his mouth. He chewed and sucked the flesh off the pit, swallowed, and spat the pit into the waste basket.

From my perch on Floridiana’s shoulder, I could smell the sweetness. Ooooh, I wanted a lychee! Despite all the time I’d spent in a place literally named Lychee Grove, I hadn’t gotten a single bite yet.

“Don’t you dare,” Floridiana muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

I resettled my wings, which I hadn’t even realized I’d begun to spread. Of course not. I was merely critiquing his peeling technique.

She didn’t need to snort.

The Earl of Yellow Flame, on the other hand, was already lagging behind. He’d wasted precious seconds poking through the top layer of lychees in his basket to select a beautiful, round, red one. Then he’d delicately removed the stem, pulling it off to reveal the top of the pit. After that, using the tips of his nails, without breaking the flesh and spilling a single precious drop of juice, he’d removed the rest of the shell in one curling piece. Then he put the fruit into his mouth and chewed slowly to savor the flavors, covered his mouth with a hand to spit the pit into his palm, and finally dropped it into the basket.

Okay. Maybe refinement was overrated in an eating contest.

By this point, Black Crag was already tearing into his third lychee. Sticky juices dripped down his wrists onto his sleeves. Standing behind him and monitoring the scene for any untoward spells, his mage winced at the mess.

Why didn’t you make peeling technique part of the victory condition? I hissed at Floridiana.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” she retorted.

How do we get him to eat faster?

“We don’t.”

Floridiana obviously had no faith in Yellow Flame’s ability gulp down his food. Probably because the man had never lacked for it a day of his life.

Since it was waaaay too late to try starving him now, I hunted for ways in which a mortal sparrow could slow down Black Crag.

I could…chirp at him and fly around his head in circles – but such blatant interference would only make him cry foul.

I could…sneak under his tunic and tickle him – but sparrows were too big. That was more something I could have pulled off as a bee, so many lives ago. Who’d have thought I’d miss White Tier?

Should I ask Bobo to speak to the bee queen? But Black Crag’s mage would instantly recognize a bee spirit creeping into his liege lord’s tunic.

So what else could I do?

I could…have Bobo do a weird dance behind Yellow Flame’s back – aha!

I zipped over to the bamboo viper, who was watching the contest next to Dusty. Come on! We’re going to do our ventriloquism act!

“Our ventriloquisssm act?”

Yes! We need to distract Black Crag so he loses the contest.

“Uh…okay! How’re we doing it?”

We’re going to provide a running commentary on their eating skills for everyone to hear! We’ll talk to each other, but move your mouth and pretend that you’re saying my parts too.

Wait, that wasn’t how ventriloquism worked.

Pretend that you’re pretending not to be saying my parts, when in fact you’re actually saying them. Got it?

“Uh…yep!”

Okay! Let’s go!

She slithered and I flew back to the table, where she shaped a coil for me to perch on. Together we faced the audience of Black Crag soldiers and Household Guards and daring Lychee Grovers who’d crept up to the tree ring to watch. Some humans had even climbed onto the branches for a better view – a bold move to be sure, but it was just like humans to act suicidal when you were trying to save their lives.

Humans and ssspirits! I cried, but my voice lacked carrying power and sounded thin and reedy even to myself. Clearing my throat, I did my best to bellow. Come one, come all, to sssee the most chivalrous sssight you ssshall ever behold!

When I started speaking, everyone in earshot jumped and gaped. All the mages put their hands to their seals on reflex, before they realized that it was just a street performance and relaxed.

After a quick glare, Yellow Flame seemed to decide that we were too crass to deserve his attention, and he went back to peeling a lychee. He had yet to get any juice on his hands. As for Black Crag, his brows knit in a ferocious scowl, and he nearly crushed a fruit.

Two noble human men, great in ssspirit, dessscended from the blood of kings, locked in a contessst that will determine the fate of Lychee Grove! Who ssshall prevail?!

Bobo had forgotten herself and was gawking at me along with everyone else, but hopefully the audience attributed that to superb acting skills. I gave her a minute nod, signaling her to say something herself.

“Um, um, we know that a lot of you are too far away to sssee clearly, ssso we’ll tell you what’s going on!”

A few tentative whoops drifted over, coming from the idiots in the trees, of course.

At the moment, His Grace the Earl of Black Crag has the lead! It is five lychees to three! What will His Grace the Earl of Yellow Flame do? How will he recover?!

Yellow Flame pointedly turned his head so he couldn’t catch so much as an accidental glimpse of this comedy routine. Swallowing and dropping his fourth pit tidily into his basket, he selected a fifth lychee.

We really needed to starve him a bit, to teach him to eat faster.

Black Crag, on the other hand, clenched his fist around his crushed lychee and growled, “What is this nonsense?”

Floridiana pasted her widest, most ingratiating grin on her face and flung wide her arms. “Your Grace! This is another tradition from the Imperial Court, described in the annals of that time!”

Silently, I willed her not to cite A Mage’s Guide to Serica, just in case Black Crag’s mage had read the cursed thing. Fortunately, she opted to leave her sources vague.

“To watch the contests of that time, aristocrats would pack themselves into the great hall of the palace, but those at the back would be unable to catch more than the merest glimpse of the combatants. Hence the tradition of the – the – the announcer! Who would narrate the battle for all to hear!”

“Yes,” Bobo agreed happily. “I am the announ-ssser.”

“This is absurd! Remove the snake at once!” shouted Black Crag.

A perfectly peeled lychee halfway to his lips, Yellow Flame remarked, “Come now, Black Crag, ‘tis tradition. Surely you can’t quibble with tradition.” He popped the fruit into his mouth and chewed, the faintest smirk on his lips.

And the Earl of Yellow Flame is onto his fifth lychee! Can he do it? Can he catch up to the Earl of Black Crag?

“This is – ‘tis – ” Black Crag sputtered, shoved the mess in his fist into his mouth, and spat it back out.

“I’m afraid that one does not count, Your Grace,” Floridiana said in a dispassionate tone. “Only pits from which you have eaten the flesh of the fruit will be included in your total.”

With a growl, Black Crag hurled the mess onto the ground and grabbed a new lychee.

Meanwhile, in a much better mood as he savored both the lychees and his opponent’s discomfit, Yellow Flame plucked a sixth lychee from his basket somewhat at random, and broke off its stem.

Seriously, would it kill the man to get a bit of juice on his hands? Still, he was ahead for now, as Black Crag mangled his next lychee.

I darted a glance at the candle. It had burned halfway down to the notch that marked the end of the contest.

And they’re both on to their sssixth lychees! They’re peeling them! The Earl of Yellow Flame ssstarted firssst, but the Earl of Black Crag is catching up! And he’s done! He’s putting it in his mouth! Oh! Oh! But does that one count? Sssee the amount of flesh he’s thrown away with the peel! Aaaaaand the judge is pausssing the contessst to decide!

I willed Floridiana to take the hint. It really wasn’t very subtle. In fact, it was about as subtle as Lord Magnissimus ripping the arm off a rock macaque to devour. So why wasn’t she making her move?

“One moment, please, Your Graces.” Floridiana pinched out the candle flame.

In the pause that followed, gasps rose from the audience. Armor creaked and weapons clanked as the soldiers edged closer. In the wake of the retreating army followed the suicidal Lychee Grovers.

Leaning over the table, Floridiana made a show of scrutinizing Black Crag’s lychee peel. She twisted her lips to a side, pursed them, and bit them, demonstrating just how hard she was thinking.

At last, she declared, “I am afraid you have left too much flesh for this one to count. After we relight the candle, you may either finish eating this one, or you may choose a new fruit and we will strike this one from your total. Page.”

The page boy stepped forward smartly.

“This is an outrage! I refuse to accept thy ruling!” Black Crag slammed a fist on the table, making the baskets jump and lychees topple out and roll onto the ground.

Murmurs rose from the crowd, soldiers in the back standing on tiptoe and craning their necks to see the lychee peel for themselves.

“Canst thou see it?”

“How doth it look?”

“How much is left?”

And the keen-sighted owl spirits puffed out their chests and answered.

“’Tis just a wee bit.”

“A wee bit! My ma would have pecked us upside the head if we left that much!”

“Thy ma could afford to feed thee lychees, could she?”

Behind them, the Lychee Grovers were starting to provide their own expert commentary.

“The true measure of skill is the cleanliness with which you remove the peel, not the speed.”

“Why did the judge choose eating speed?”

“’Tis such a waste of good lychees!”

A soldier, who’d apparently never eaten a lychee in his life, turned around and asked, “Is it that hard to peel cleanly?”

Bending down, one Lychee Grover picked up a stray fruit to demonstrate. A knot of people gathered around him, the soldiers looking on with great interest while his fellow Lychee Grovers criticized his technique.

Back at the table, Yellow Flame drawled, “Don’t be tedious, Black Crag. Surely it won’t be such a trial to lick the peel clean.” His tone might have been lazy, but his attitude was not. He was balanced on the edge of his chair, eyes scanning his basket to pick out his next target. “Page, light the candle.”

“I object!” roared Black Crag, but Floridiana nodded, and the boy lit the candle.

At once, Yellow Flame’s fingertips flew over his seventh lychee, removing the peel in one piece.

Black Crag growled, stuffed his sixth lychee’s peel into his mouth and then spat it back out, clean of flesh. As he reached for his seventh, Yellow Flame started on his eighth.

Meanwhile, on the erstwhile battlefield, the soldiers were getting onto their hands and knees, searching for and eating the precious fruits or tucking them into their pockets for later. Lychee Grovers enthusiastically led them to the trees and helped them pick lychees to take home. One Lychee Grover even challenged a pangolin soldier to an eating contest of their own.

As my focus shifted to them, Bobo took over the announcing duties. “The Earl of Yellow Flame is winning now! Eight lychees to ssseven!”

In the distance, peddlers were coming out of the city with bamboo poles balanced on their shoulders. Bulging baskets of snacks dangled from the ends. Excellent. Maybe we could stuff the army so full of good food that it couldn’t fight anymore.

Returning my attention to the contestants, I declared, But the Earl of Black Crag is catching up! He is reaching for his eighth lychee! He is peeling his eighth lychee! He is –

Black Crag flung it aside. He leaped to his feet and flipped the table over, sending the Yellow Flame tumbling backwards and lychees flying everywhere. Bobo used her body to shield me from a hail of pits.

“Enough!” he roared. “I have had enough of this nonsense!”

“Indeed,” said a cool voice behind us. “I have also had quite enough of this nonsense, Uncle.”

The Queen of South Serica had arrived.