Julie Kagawa

Suki could read and do numbers as well as any boy, but being a girl, she was not allowed to inherit her father’s business or learn his craft.

Kitsune. Fox. Or half kitsune, more accurately. Wild kitsune, the foxes that roamed the hidden places of Iwagoto, were masters of illusion magic and shapeshifting. While it was true that some kitsune chose to live as normal wild animals, all foxes possessed magic. Kitsune were yokai, creatures of the supernatural. One of their favorite tricks was to take human form—usually in the guise of a beautiful woman—and lure men astray.

Only in suffering, dullness and boredom can you find true happiness.

“A maid’s conversation can be as interesting as any noblewoman’s.”

I don’t think this is a proper representation,” she stated in a serious voice. “I’ve never known any tanuki to have that big a scrotum.”

The spider does not spin its web in a heartbeat, nor does the albatross fly across oceans with a few flaps of its wings. Many would consider what they do impossible, and yet, they still complete their tasks without fail, because they simply...start.

Gazing down at myself, I no longer saw the elegant white robes of the onmyoji; I saw a squat, ugly body with festering red skin, tattered rags and hooked claws. I chuckled, and it sounded evil and raspy in my ears.

“I am a lover of art and beauty, Okame-san,” he said with a shrug. “I have learned that it can be found anywhere, regardless of station or circumstance. True beauty is rare, hidden and often overlooked by others. And it can appear at the strangest times. I try to appreciate it when I see it.”

Aka the Red, a half-demon whose name was quickly rising through the ranks of monsters and humans alike, met my gaze with glittering crimson eyes that held no emotion whatsoever.

The Dragon Spine Mountains.
The sun climbed higher into the sky, sliding in and out of the clouds, and the rolling plains went on. We dozed in the back of the cart, Reika slumped against the crates, Daisuke with his hands in his lap and his head on his chest. Okame snored quietly, echoing Master Jiro’s shallow, wheezing breaths and occasional cough from the front. My eyes fluttered closed, and in that strange place between consciousness and dreams, I thought I heard Tatsumi’s voice. Calling to me.