Roxanne couldn't believe the email she had gotten; it was just incredible. But even better than the email was the reality.

"Wow," she breathed, leaning down to see into the cage better.

"Awesome, ain't it?" David asked, leaning against the doorframe and smiling. Vixen smiled back at the manager of the Harmony City lab. He smiled as he talked, but there was a hint of propietary worry in his eyes. "Are you taking it back to Seattle?"

"Maybe," Roxanne admitted, not wanting to commit further. She turned away from David and looked again at the unique fox. It was a vibrant red, even moreso than most foxes. Bright, eeriely intelligent eyes watched Roxanne from behind a barricade of tails - three red and white tails, to be exact.

"It is entralling, isn't it?" David asked, and Vixen heard the unspoken statement in his voice: please don't take her away.

"It sure is," Roxanne agreed again. Straightening, she moved to the thick file on the table. "Is this all the information about her so far?"

"Yes."

Roxanne gave him a big smile and said, "Would you go through it with me? You are the expert." Maybe some ego-stroking will calm him down... She slid the file toward him with a smile.

David smiled back at her. "Okay. As you can see, the dominant features are the three tails, resulting from a split in the spinal blah bleedo bleedy-blip-blah..."

Roxanne read through the file with David, careful not to read too far ahead. She brushed a lock of red hair out of her face and pushed her glasses back in front of her brown eyes. My God, I can't believe this. What a find. "You told me a tourist found this specimen?"

"In Japan, yes. Brought it over here to Harmony."

Roxanne made a tch noise. "Smuggling an animal out of a country. Not smart."

"He just didn't know any better. He'll be all right - he was happy to sign the waiver. He gets no discovery rights or finder's fee and he also doesn't get charged."

"Nice. Have you done any testing?"

"Just quarantine. It's not infectious. People don't seem to want to stay in the same room as Kit for long, but that's kind of normal."

"Kit?"

"Yeah. Uh, my fault there." He smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "Short for 'kitsune.'"

She stared up at him. "Kitsune."

"Japanese fox spirit. Lots of tails. Magical spirit creatures. Tricksters."

Roxanne made a hrrmf noise. "Nothing magical about this one. If it were, wouldn't it just walk right out through that cage?" She caught David's slightly hurt expression and backpedalled mentally. "But you might be on to something. The specimen's genus might be the origin of the myth."

"Don't believe in magic?"

"I think that super-people who claim they're magicians are misguided at best and just plain lying at worse. I like sticking to what can be proved and verified and analyzed. The day I believe in 'magic' is the day I get up out of this chair and see if I just can't fly out the window."

David nodded and smiled, still ill at ease but improving. "Did you want to look it over before you made your decision?"

"Yeah." She pulled her wheelchair back from the desk. "Just stuff it in my pack in the back. I'll review it later. Right now I'm going to grab a bite to eat. I'll be right back and we can go over the preliminaries."

"See you soon."

Roxanne went out into the corridor, leaning her hand forward on the stick that drove the motor. She took the wheelchair to the end of the hall, reached out, and pressed the elevator button.

After a moment, the doors opened, and she stared up at eight different faces looking down at her.

One of them stammered out, "Oh - sorry - uh - no room - "

She nodded. "I'll wait for the next one."

The doors closed, and she pressed the button again, and sighed... a little more heavily than she'd liked.

Getting food presented Roxanne with all the usual difficulties: maneuvering through a cafe that reported to be handicapped-accessable but was exactly the opposite; the people who seemed blind to anything below their collarbones; and the counters that were just high enough to hurt her back exchanging money for food. She was fighting a touch of fatigue as she rolled back to the elevator. As the floors slid past her, she clutched her sandwich, and tried to think about the waiting specimen rather than herself.

Her hand pushed the lever forward on her wheelchair and she started to roll out of the box. Legs were suddenly in front of her, and Roxanne glanced up - into the bore of a gun. "Back up," the man in the ski mask said, "there's enough room."

"We could let her out," the second man said, even as he and the third man pushed he back into the elevator. The fourth man was silent as he carried a wire cage with an agitated multi-tailed fox.

"She's not going to get in our way," the first said. Roxanne shook her head in agreement, glancing at the floor. She swallowed hard when she saw that the men were leaving red prints on the floor. What did they do to David? Did they kill him?

She glanced up at the fox, surprised to see that it was looking intently at her. Its dark eyes seemed to be trying to trying to say something, but Roxanne couldn't read its inhuman eyes. The elevator rolled downward, carrying her deeper into a big mess.

oh god oh god oh god oh god

Roxanne's face was pale as a sheet. Her eyes darted between the fox in the cage, and the gun held in her face. Thoughts of university and safe walk programs fired through her brain like bullets, leaving sizzling smoke trails across her mind.

they're going to kill me oh god they're going to do worse than kill me is my pepper spray in my purse? I can't get to it they'll see me just try and remember their faces for the cops what kind of gun is that oh god why me?

Try and stay calm. They want the fox - they must be working for someone. God, probably one of those biotech companies I can't bear to read about because it gives me a headache from grinding my teeth...

She looked to the fox, and felt the panic relent slightly. I hope they don't hurt you,[i] she thought. [i]I really hope they don't.

The elevator stopped. A ding noise rings out.

A gun was pointed at Roxanne's face. "Out."

The men didn't give her a chance to argue; one - he was wearing a shirt with sleeves too short for his long arms, and Roxanne could see the bottom edge of a marking or tattoo - pushed her chair quickly out into the hallway. Silently, the men moved as one to the left; Roxanne realized they were in the basement, headed toward the parking garage.

"Don't worry," one of the other men said, giving her a nervous smile - his front two teeth were chipped distinctively - "just cooperate, and no one's going to hurt you." The statement was somewhat unreassuring as it was coming from a man with a gun.

"Shut up. You talk too much," another said, pushing up the edge of his mask to scratch at a long, nasty scar. He stopped scratching and bent over Roxanne, snatching her sandwich off her lap. With a grin, he unwrapped it and took a big bite, grinning. "Thanks," Scar said, "that was good." The unwrapped sandwich was dropped back in her lap, deformed by a bite and the deep impressions from his fingers.

Sirens sang out with fearsome suddenness, making everyone jump. One of the guns went off, drawing a scream out of one of the other men; the leader glared at Chipped Teeth, who was clearly blushing and trying to wave away the black smoke cloud hanging around him.

"That scientist... he was playing possum," one man grunted, playing with the beads wrapped around one hand. "I knew you needed to shoot him again."

"Enough," the leader said, spinning and walking back the way they came. "Plan B."

"Yuck," Scar muttered, and Beads nodded in agreement. Tattoo Arm sighed as he pushed Vixen down the hall.

"What about the crip?" Beads asked; Chipped Teeth shot him a dirty look.

"We may still need a hostage," the leader muttered.

Roxanne's blood ran cold. Hostage. The word was so hard, so real and it was worse to know that it was being uttered in reference to her. Roxanne shuddered with fear.

They moved quickly and efficiently through the basement. The fox had settled down in her cage, but her eyes remained locked on Roxanne. The young woman had a strange sense of being weighed or judged.

The thieves stopped at a lowered gate. Cursing, the leader said, "Everyone, get out your belt torches and start cutting. You." He pointed to the man carrying the fox. "Put that down. Gu- You." He pointed to Tattoo Arm. "Watch her."

The cage was dropped onto her lap, and Roxanne automatically grabbed it. She could feel her sandwich start getting smashed under the weight of the cage. And still, the strange fox watched her, those vibrant eyes glued to her eyes.

They want you for something.

Roxanne stared down into the fox's eyes, feeling a great swell of sadness rising within her. She wiped away a tear.

These aren't the kind of men who'd be gentle. They might kill you. They'll probably do horrible things to you.

She turned the word hostage over in her mind. Technically, they would have two hostages, but only one the police would care about. She wanted to live. Very badly, she wanted to live.

But she wanted the fox to live, too. To live without fear of constant needles, high voltage, toxic substances and pain experimentation. And this way it would have a chance...

And if they shot her they would have no one to keep the cops away.

She whispered under her breath, not knowing why she would use English on an animal - for her own sake, perhaps, if not for the animal's. "Run. When I drop the cage, run." She fumbled with the lock, trying to open it.

Then she cried out and dropped the cage. "OW! It bit me!" She held her hand, trying to put on a good show, her eyes fixated on the cage and its occupant. Run, dammit - run...

The didn't run. It leapt back onto her lap, its eyes shining brightly. The little, wet nose shoved inbetween her hands; the whiskers tickled for a second. But that sensation was lost in a wave of pain when the sharp little teeth dug into her hand for real.

Roxanne didn't even have a chance to reflect on the ungratefulness of the wretched little beast; her handler was yelling and the scene descended into chaos.

"You stupid little-!" The gun was leveled at her, but the leader shrieked, "No! The Fox! You'll shoot it!"

Her handler lunged for the fox, and the agile creature released her hand. As graceful and as light as a leaf on the wind, the fox leapt from her lap, easily evading the clusmy human. Pain, burning and terrible flared down her hand, rolling through her body. She screamed, and the men all jumped.

"What's wrong with her?" one asked; she wasn't sure who.

"Doesn't matter," the leader grunted, his voice clear. "Leave her; get the fox."

The sound of receding feet echoed in the hallway, but Roxanne was trapped in a world that began and ended at the pain flaring through her body; when it reached her back and legs, it became intolerable, and the young woman passed out.


Roxanne woke up in the hospital. When she opened her eyes with a moan, the first person she saw was her boss, Cal Harrison. "Roxanne?" he asked, rubbing his hairpiece nervously. "How do you feel?"

"Uhngh." She closed her eyes and reopened them. She breathed in, then out, softly. "I think I'm okay..."

Hospital, she thought sourly. I'm in a hospital.

She'd been in hospitals before - surgery, physiotherapy, checkups - but there was something about this one. Everything smelled sharper. She could tell that Cal had a hamburger for lunch, and that he'd had mustard. Beyond that, there was something...

"Where am I? What happened?"

"Well, where is the Harmony City Hospital," Cal said, dropping his hand from his "hair." He clasped his hands together and started to twist his wedding ring, as if he couldn't keep his hands still. "As for what happened... well, we had some questions about that."

Roxanne tilted her head frowning. Cal smiled tightly and pushed a rolling cart toward her. It was designed to fit around her bed, and there was one object on it. Cal nodded encouragingly when she reached for the flat piece of plastic. Hating the sudden sense of drama this was building in her, Roxanne picked it up, realizing it was a face-down mirror. She automatically flipped it over, glancing at her reflection-

Roxanne did a literal double take. Her eyes and hair had changed, and she was left blinking in shock. Her hair was snow-white, and her eyes the color of spring grass. Cal intruded on her shocked silence, asking softly, "What do you remember?"

"I - "

She blinked. I don't have my glasses on. I can see just fine and I don't have my glasses on.

"I'd just gotten a sandwich and - and then there was a gun in my face. They took the elevator down with me and they had the fox. There were sirens - uh - then they put the cage in my lap, then the fox bit me and it got out of the cage, then it bit me again and I must have passed out - David! Oh God, there was blood on the floor. They said they shot him. Is he okay?"

"David? Oh, yeah... he should recover," Cal sighed. "The bullet clipped his spine, though, so he might be in a wheelchair..." Cal's voice trailed off and he awkwardly cleared his throat.

"The fox is gone," he said, trying to change the subject. "The thieves were caught, but they didn't have the fox. I guess... I guess she's gone." His eyes were plainative as he asked, "Do you have any thoughts on that?"

"David? Oh God."

Roxanne reached up and rubbed the ridge of her nose. He didn't deserve that. God. He didn't deserve that at all. Those bastards.

"The fox? I - it all happened so fast...! I just kept thinking that they were going to do horrible things to me and to her, and... I just opened the cage. I thought 'at least one of us can get away.' Dumb, I guess..."

She looked right at me. Those eyes... green eyes... and she bit me, and I passed out...

"What about the thieves? Did they catch them? Please tell me they did."

"Yeah, yeah... they caught them," Cal said. "The police trapped them between the security gate to the parking garage and the elevator, and managed to capture them. It was a good thing you weren't with them - there were some bullets flying around, and you might have been hurt. Er, hurt more."

Cal shook his head, smiling. "Don't worry, you won't have to testify against them," her boss said. "I've set our well-pain, rabid attack-lawyer on them, and I think they're not going to push the issue.

"And one more thing," Cal added. "I'm sure the doctors are going to want to talk to you about this... but they noticed that you were having a reaction when they did a pain test." When she just frowned, he said, "In your legs. They poked you with a pin, and you jerked your toe away. I didn't think you could move your legs."

My legs? I -

"I can't move my legs. I haven't been able to since I was fourteen..."

Underneath the hospital sheets, she tried, experimentally, to wiggle her toes. She felt the nerves reawaken and respond, in turn, to her mental prodding.

"It's not possible. How - " She swallowed thickly, and laid her head back, breathing out a shuddering breath. "Room's spinning..."

Roxanne can hear Cal shouting for a doctor, but it's muted by the dizziness wrapping her head. Soon, a handsome, dark-skinned man with a Middle Eastern accent was gently holding her eyelid back while he shone a light in her eye. "What is wrong?"

"Dizzy..." Roxanne moans.

"She was just laying there," Cal said nervously.

"Dr. Richardson, I'm Dr. Mahram Kabiri. You can call me Dr. M," the man said, peeling back the other eyelid. "Did you see lights or anything before you had that dizzy spell?"

"No," she said, trying to put her hand to her temple. "I moved my toes... it was so strange."

"Ah," Dr. M said, turning off the light and sitting down in a nearby chair. The florscent lights shone off his black hair. "You're probably just overwhelmed." He gave her a kind smile as he slipped his hands in his pocket. "How do you feel, I mean really feel - tell me everything. Wait." He glanced at Cal. "Can you give us some time?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. I need to check on David, anyway," Cal said, flushing a little.

In the silence, Dr. M turned back to her, his dark eyes patient and kind.

"I feel - actually..."

She flexed her fingers and tried rolling her legs. "I feel good. Really good. Everything's sharper. I can see the ceiling clearly and I don't have my specs, and I can move my leg a little. I just - " She runs her fingers through her hair. "It's a lot to take in."

She lifts her hand to check where the fox bit her.

"It bit me. Right here. What happened?"

There's a faint scar, as if it's almost healed. But Roxanne suddenly is sure that the scar has healed as much as it will. She's not sure how she knows it, but it is a surety for her, now.

"Here?" Dr. M took her hand in his warm ones. "I thought this was an old injury. It looked like this when you were admitted." He ran his fingers over the scar, probing gently.

"As far as what has happened to you overall... Well," he released her hand and sat back, running hands through his dark hair. "How to put this... We have no clue." He laughs lightly, but Roxanne can see the effort it causes him to keep his tone from getting darker.

"No idea..."

Roxanne wasn't a spinal surgeon, but she knew the science well enough to know how bad her situation was. Backs didn't spontaneously reknit. And even if they did, the nerves were dead - they didn't spontaneously return to life.

The doctor had it in one. Science was clueless on this one, and that left -

"No." She scowled, then caught the doctor's eye. "Sorry. Thinking out loud."

No. I'm not even going to consider it. It's ludicrous. You don't draw a pentagram on the floor and summon up spirits. There's no such thing as magic.

But, she knew, there was such a thing as science she didn't understand. There were theories as to how people could fly without hollow bones or wings, bounce bullets off their chest with skin still supple to the touch, and lift cars without them breaking in half - all theories, though. No real proof. Science was flying blind much of the time, in the face of the super-human.

Or the super-vulpine.

Humans can get superpowers. Why not foxes?

It was an ugly train of thought. It felt as if it was dragging away from how she'd been taught to think, which was never to assume why, but always to prove "why." But it felt inexorable. And there was nothing else she could think of.

"Well, I'll let you take whatever tests you want to, of course...! I - I just have to ask. Is it safe for me to... you know..." She tried to keep her heart from fluttering in her chest. "To try and stand up?"

Dr. M hesitated a moment, then nodded. "I'll be right here, so I think we can give it a try," he said. He helped her move the sheets back and put her legs over the edge of the bed. Moving in front of her, he slipped his arms under hers and carefully lifted her upper body. Slowly, Roxanne slid her butt forward until her feet touched the floor.

Soles down, Roxanne reminded herself as her feet weren't used to being flat. Secured against Dr. M's body, she sorted out her feet, knees and legs and where they were supposed to go. "Now, ready? I'm going to let you go slowly," Dr. M said. "If you start to lose your balance, just say something, and I'll grab you, ok? And... I'm starting now. Slowly... real slowly. You're doing fine."

Roxanne gasped as her feet touch the floor. The coldness of the hospital's tiles was like a jolt of electricity.

She wobbled a bit, mostly from inexperience - her legs felt strong. God in heaven, I'm standing. On my own two feet!

There was no groan from her joints or protest from oxygen-starved muscles. No frailty. Her heart thudded in her chest. I wouldn't be able to take it, God... if you're there... I wouldn't be able to take it, if this was just a dream.

As Dr. M slowly released her, she couldn't help the grin that stole over her face. Despite David, despite the violence, despite loosing the fox, despite everything... she was standing. Eye level with the world.

A few steps turned into a few dozen. She did an impromptu jig on the spot, covering her mouth as a brief burst of laughter escaped.

Did the fox do something to me when it bit me? Is that why my hair and eyes have changed?

Kitsune.

David called it a kistune.

Roxanne made it a point to remember the name. She took another step -

And her foot touched grass.

She blinked, and looked around. The doctor was gone. The cold tile of the hospital was gone. The hospital itself was gone. All there was, was a clearing, in the middle of a forest, and a small hollow log in the middle of the clearing.

There was a smell of pine needles in the air. A very familiar smell...

She blinked, and the hospital returned. Dr. M was half a step away, about to try and steady her. "Are you - "

"Sorry. Was miles away." She wiped her head. "I - I think I might need to rest a bit."

---

Dr. M almost picked her up again, Roxanne saw it in his eyes, but he didn't. Instead, he hovered close to her as she made her way back to bed. "I think I'm going to do a CAT scan and an MRI... we'll draw some blood and try to run some comparisons, based on the files your general practitioner sent us. I'd like to run a stress test, and would you consent to a general psych exam and a reasoning/logic test? I'd like to see if anything is changed mentally."

He hesitated, then asked, "Are you experiencing any other symptoms that might help us figure out what happened to you?"

"I blanked out for a second there. I think it might just be stress. But yes, all of that sounds good. I'm ready when you are."

A CAT scan and MRI later, Roxanne was back in her room. She had the dubious job of a stress test to look forward to tomorrow, but for now, she was alone with her laptop. Cal had been nice enough to run to the office and bring her the machine. But now it was after hours, and Roxanne was alone.

Google was up, and Roxanne typed in 'kitsune'.


Thousands of links popped open, and Roxanne began to look through them.

"Hmm," she mutters.



"Hmmmmm," she continues.

Roxanne clicked away as the clock went around. Much of it was contradictory and confusing, as folklore often was. It was one reason she'd typically had so little patience for it. But her theory might have been correct after all - the myths might have had their origin in some subspecies of vulpes vulpes that experience evolutionary throwback in the form of "Kit." All those myths could be simple tall tales that grew out of connections that weren't there, or... she hated saying it, of "super-abilities" in the fox.

Simple. Nice and neat.

She ignored the saying about explanations that were simple, neat and wrong, and continued clicking.







Roxanne blinked, and re-read it. Then read it again. She ran a hand through her hair and felt cold.

"God, what was I thinking? This is just - pure - argh." She folded down the cover to the laptop and set it aside. "I don't know why I even bothered..."

She resigned herself to sleep.

The next morning there was a stress test first thing, which was followed by a shower. Roxanne was having no trouble walking; even the running on the test hadn't given her any problems. She had done far better than she had any right to do. Once the shower was done, there was one thing left that Roxanne really wanted to do.

"Hey," David said weakly, giving her a smile. Tubes ran through and over his body; the oxygen tubes made his nose look even larger than it did normally. His body, by comparison, looked smaller and he looked frail and weak. He had been grievously shot just two days ago, Roxanne reminded herself. "You look great," he said, managing to keep the irony and jealousy out of his voice. He didn't wait a beat before adding, "I heard she got away. Did she?"

"She did." Her face broke. "David, I - God, I'm so sorry."

She sat down on the chair, and rubbed her nose. For a moment, she thinks about repeating the lie, but... no. Not to David. "I was scared, and... there were guns being waved around. And I thought, maybe if she escaped, then we didn't both have to die. And she bit me just before she ran off and I blacked out and... and..."

She cradles her face. "And now you're hurt. And she's gone. And I came out better than before. And it's so God Damned unfair..."

And when I focus just right it's like I'm inside a giant forest, and it smells like memories, and there's something there, just under the ground, and I'm scared to touch it because it feels like I'm just giving up on the way I've taught myself to think...

He literally sagged with relief at the news of the kitsune, his shoulders dropping and rounding. But as she continued, his shoulders tightened up again, pulling his arms into his torso.

"Roxanne..." he said, and she heard how close he was to breaking down in his voice. "Come on, no, it's ok." He was desperately grinning. "You know this - my life isn't over, just changed. Sure, there'll be some adjustment, but I've still got my brain, and that's what I need for work."

She realized that he needed to her to tell him it would be ok. He needed to her to tell him that his life would go on, and that it would still be worthwhile. He needed to hear that while he wouldn't be cutting the rug at his next wedding, he'd laugh and feel good again. And at this moment, only she could tell him, because she'd been there, and she healed. But what he really wanted to hear was that maybe someday, he'd heal too.

Roxanne was silent for a moment as she forced herself calm.

Inside the forest in her mind, she walked carefully into the clearing. She was naked, and didn't seem to mind. She looked carefully at the log.

She remembered the log. It was the last summer camping trip before her accident, the car crash at age 14 that had changed her life forever. She'd been plodding along int he woods, straying maybe a little too far from camp, and she'd found a hollow log. She'd had her walking stick and prodded it.

"Life can change so fast."

She'd prodded the log and it rolled over, and there was a whole world crawling underneath. Beetles, centipedes, an ant colony, everything that gave you the creepy crawlies, and it was all she could have done not to scream. Their whole world was upset, and no longer hidden. And there was the smell of pine needles, sharp in the air at dusk, mixed with the smoke of the campfire. Just between places, where day changed into night.

It was the same log, and not the same log, here in the forest of the mind. It represented the same thing. Turn it over and another world would spill out.

It scared her.

"Just snap your fingers and poof. It's all different. I... I don't know what's happening..."

She thought back to when she'd learnt that she would be paralyzed for life, and the knowledge that this was what David was feeling pushed the other fears away. Maybe it was irrational. Maybe it was gobbledygook. But what was rational and sensible told her that David would never walk on his own two feet again, and that was not good enough...

"Socrates said that any quest for knowledge begins by admitting that we do not know." She rubbed the back of her head.

And she didn't know. And she wanted to.

She reached down and lifted up the log...

"... oh." She blinked, and stood up slowly.

And the log unfolded into a log cabin. It was painful to think about - it was as if it was the same log, repeated many times, piled atop each other. In seconds it was done. And the door opened.

She stepped through, and no words were spoken, but there was an understanding.

"David," she said quietly. "I think I can help you. But you have to promise me something."

"What do you mean? The doctors said - "

"And they're right. In their way. But they aren't... fully right. There's something else I can do, I think. But you have to promise me that you'll stay quiet. Something kind of weird is about to happen. I need you to trust me. Please."

"I - o-okay, Roxanne. I'll stay quiet."

She nodded. She closed her eyes for a long moment.

It was more than my hair and my eyes and my legs. That was the tip - the barest tip. To do this I need to embrace what I've changed into, and leave behind - for now - what is now only a part of me.

I'm scared.

But... I'm ready.

Her eyes glowed, and her face distended. Her nose elongated, spreading, blackening. She gritted her teeth as they sharpened, as her jaw distended, keeping pace with her nose. Her ears migrated up to the top of her head, pushing upwards through her white hair.

Her fingers grew claws. There was a sudden weight behind her, and she felt them rather than saw them - tails, first one and then two and then three. They sprouted fur along with the rest of her, bushy and bright, full of deep red, sharp blacks, and pure whites.

Her clothing changed as well, becoming an elegant dress of red and black and gold. She opened her eyes, still a sharp green, and looked to David for a long moment.



Please don't scream, David, she begged silently. I don't know if I could take it if you screamed.

There was a long, terrified moment. Roxanne was waiting - dreading - the possible screaming; David was brought face-to