Many, many things, he said, but could we talk about that later?
“They’re in good health?”
Yes.
“Okay,” she said, pulling herself together, focusing on him. “You said you wanted a favor? Certainly I owe you a great many favors. But I thought foxes couldn’t talk to people unless they were bonded.”
The fox blinked again. Then he burst out with it, because he had to.
Humans are supposed to think that, he said. It’s one of the fallacies we propagate, to protect the secrets of foxkind. I’m not supposed to be talking to you.
The queen seemed struck by this. Her face was frozen with surprise. Then she wiped her eyes. “Have I lost my mind?”
No. I’ve been breaking a lot of the rules with you, because of not knowing how to help you. And also because I want to be honest with you. So badly! That’s why I need a favor.
“What favor?”
Something is going to happen, said the fox.
“What?”
I don’t know, he said, remembering the feeling of Lovisa that morning. I’m not sure. But I think a human is going to try to help you.
Another small sob escaped her. She waved at him to continue. “Please, go on.”
When the thing happens that’s going to happen, the fox said, and for all the time afterward, will you promise never to tell any other human or fox that a fox who wasn’t bonded to you talked to you? That he defied his bonded human? That he brought you food? That he snuck in and out of the walls? That he was able to read your thoughts, and tried to manipulate your mind?
The queen was silent. The fox tapped on her heart and mind. She was astonished, processing rapidly his every word. She was a smart one; she understood what he’d done and what his request meant for Winterkeep.
She lifted her chin. “There are people in my life I don’t lie to,” she said. “One person in particular. I can’t make a promise to you that would break a promise to him.”
That was an interesting dilemma. The fox considered it. Could you tell him, then swear him to secrecy?
“I think so,” she said. “But what if something in his conscience compels him to tell someone someday?”
The fox had never studied mathematics specifically, but he understood the meaning of exponential. This was the problem with secrets and lies, even among trustworthy people like this queen. And his heart was sinking, because he’d broken too many of the rules, and now he would never be safe. Nor would foxkind. Yes, he said. I see.
“But I also see the position you’re in,” she said. “And you’re my friend. You’ve made this imprisonment bearable for me. You’ve even kept me safe, like that time with the letter opener. You have been honorable, helpful, and true. I can promise that I’ll never tell anyone I don’t need to, and that I’ll do all I can to protect your secret. I’ll also make every effort to consult you first, before I tell anyone new. Is that good enough?”
* * *
—
It was strange, how much better the fox felt after that. And how desperate he was for her to survive. She looked ferocious and grand whenever she parried with the letter opener as if it were a sword. She was completely unlike any human he’d ever known; she was wondrous. She called me honorable, helpful, and true, he thought. Honorable, helpful, and true. Can that really be, when I’ve betrayed my kind?
But what was I supposed to do? Let her starve? I couldn’t let her starve. Nor could I leave her feeling alone and helpless. I HAD to betray foxkind! Why are the rules what they are?!
He knew why, of course. Humans had the power to change everything in the world, including laws about the lives of foxes. Foxes needed to protect themselves. Keeping secrets and telling lies, letting humans believe that humans were in charge while foxes manipulated them, was a necessary protection for foxes.
But it didn’t always make sense. Not when some humans were worth protecting from other humans, and some humans weren’t worth protecting at all.
This queen can’t be a wrong person to protect, he thought. I can feel the rightness of her heart. She must survive. And I’m going to help.
* * *
—
He wasn’t sure how much time he had before Lovisa came. Immediately, he began to bring things to the queen.
First, her own gold rings, because the fox knew that humans treasured things like that. He was familiar with the hidden lever that opened the secret drawers in Benni’s desk, but one of them opened with terrible squeaks, so he had to wait till no one was anywhere near. And he could only carry two rings at a time, so he did a lot of running.
“My rings,” the queen said in astonishment, the first time he burst into the room with two of them clenched in his mouth.
Hide them in the heat duct, he said. I’ll go get more.
“I will, of course,” she said, putting them on her fingers first, holding them up to the cold starlight. One had a large white stone that sparkled against her pale brown skin. The other had two inset stones, one gold, one silver. “But please don’t risk your safety for my rings.”
I can bring you Katu Cavenda’s ruby ring too, he said. And some of his other things. I know where they are, his papers and his traveling things. I suppose I should leave some of them where they are, though, he said, suddenly imagining what Benni might think if he opened his secret desk drawers and found everything gone. Maybe he should leave all of Katu’s things. Maybe he shouldn’t have given the queen her rings!
Then he realized that the queen had stilled her body. She’d turned to him with wide, frightened eyes. “Katu Cavenda?” she said.
Oh, yes, the fox said. He’s Ferla’s brother. Ferla Cavenda is the angry woman I’m bonded to.
The queen sat down slowly on the floor, right where she was, and hugged herself tight. “I knew it,” she said. “They looked so much like him. Their faces, the white streaks in their hair. But why would his sister have taken his things?”
It was Benni Cavenda who took his things, said the fox. So that no one would find them and realize Katu wasn’t really traveling.
“Oh, no,” said the queen. “Oh, poor Katu. What’s happened to him? Please tell me he’s not dead.”
I don’t know what’s happened to him, said the fox.
Do you know about two Monsean men who drowned?
A little, said the fox. Not much. I know Ferla is angry about it. I’m better with feelings and intentions, and with things that happen nearby.
What do you know? said the queen. How much time do we have? I want to know as much as you can tell me.