1001 Nights in Their Garden

The Fourth Night- Concluding the Hunt or "The Vixen's Captivity"

My name is Spinel, and I should be happy for the little princeling, shouldn't I? Like his father, and his grandfather, I went to such lengths to play cupid that I doubt you would believe me if I told you. Of course, I will say that my role as a shapeshifter and illusionist can make yours truly a bureaucrat just as easily as a fox. I am happy for him, aren't I?

The answer that suddenly gripped me as I saw him place his hand on that witch's cheek and press his lips to hers. What was she thinking, he was mine! At once I crashed through the glass window and got between them. I growled fiercely at her as all the noble posturing disappeared. The look of delicious fear on her face was spectacular.

"Oh my…" That was all her grace could manage as Pearl burst through the door with a cutlass and flintlock pistol.

She lowered her pistol and fired at once. There was a brief spark as the powder ignited and was followed with a loud bang. My form broke and I returned to my human form. The next few seconds went by for me in slow motion as thoughts crawled through my mind, but refused to leave my mouth:

"Oh right, the girl has my dress."

"This shirt is quite drafty."

"It's all wet."

"I'm all wet."

"I've been shot."

Darkness crept over me as I looked into the kind face whose eyes were crying. The last thing I said, the only thing I said as I lay there dying was, "Hehe, guess in the end you did hunt me down." I felt heavy, and wet, and cold. Finally, I felt nothing at all.

I expected to fade away or go to one of those nutty afterlife's humans are always going on and on about. Once, centuries ago, I listened in the form of an old woman to a firebrand preacher who worked himself into a tizzy, yelling about "The sounds of an angelic choir chanting praises to the lost." Of course, he had promised that the "Sweet tomorrow of hope," would have no pain. The first thing I noticed was the immense pain tearing through my shoulder.

This served as a painful reminder that I might still be living. There was little consolation to be had as I attempted to relate my situation to those same eyes I had seen just before I closed mine. I still wasn't sure what came over me. I wanted him to know that I was sorry. I wanted him to know that this wasn't his fault. Instead, through teary inflamed eyes I managed, "Gah… mnnm."

His words barely registered, "Spinel… worried… drink."

A cold liquid ran down the blazing furnace of my throat. Soon after, I dozed off. Naturally my wound had resulted in an expected fever, but to me it was all a fuzzy mess with only the vaguest connection to reality. That fuzz sounded like Steven, Pearl, and even the princess in the beginning. As time wore on it seemed to only be him.

I'd had close calls in my life before, given my age it's inevitable. However, this feeling of helplessness, of weakness, was something new and unwanted. Dreams and reality were a muddled mess, and at times I relived that moment where I was shot. Usually I was the princess, but at least once it was me pulling the trigger. That fever was so rough that death might've come with some relief.

I didn't die though, and after this period of pain and disconnection, a wave of new and uncertain pain came over me. Suddenly I was aware that it was nighttime, and that I was sweating profusely. Shivering I called out, "Help!" I felt the distressful feeling of wanting, needing, to cry but being utterly dried out. The prince had been sleeping by the bedside and ran to me with a pitcher full of water. He removed the blanket around my body before covering it with another that lay warming by the furnace.

He gave me a cup of water saying, "Sip this."

I did as he commanded before slipping of into another night of hellish dreams, and nightmares. This time I watched him burry me alive. The shovel scraped the earth and pushed it in on me. I attempted to cry out, but my mouth was full of dirt. I tried to cough .

This all went on for some time. Then one fine morning my pain was only unbearable, and at last I came back into my right mind. A sweet sound rang through my ears. It sailed in with an unseasonably cold breeze. I rustled in bed, still weak, "Sss-teevan," it hurt to even say that. Suddenly the music ceased, and I looked into the face of a bearded, tired looking man.

His hair was a deep black, and bags had accumulated under his eyes. The eyes and smile hid nothing though, and he embraced me. A sharp pain raced through my shoulder and I clenched my teeth. Quickly he let go, "I'm so sorry."

"Tell your pearl," I coughed, "to work on her aim."

He smiled and sat by my side, "I'll be sure to tell her," he fed me some cold grain cereal. It was thin and gross, but I swallowed it. The sound of his spoon dragging against the bowl was disturbingly familiar "I hope I didn't wake you with my playing the violin. I've never been all that good."

"P-please, play more."

This time he struck up a joyful gavotte, might've known his pearl would teach him that one. I listened for a little while before falling asleep again. I thought of someone quite like him, all those years ago…

It was a little disappointing that he wasn't there when I woke up. The knock at the door raised my hope, when Pearl came in with a tub of water and a towel my hopes sank through the floor. "Good morning Spinel, I hope you are feeling well." She tried to manage a smile, but it was no good.

"I'm fine. Fine for someone who has been in and out of consciousness because a miserable clod shot me in the arm," I meant to sound angry but only wheezed it out feebly.

"You're expecting sympathy?" She asked, removing the blanket from my bed.

"What do you think you're," she didn't let me finish.

"Relax, I need to look at your wound and replace the bandages." It was with great reluctance that I let her remove and replace them. Once the deed was done, she left the tub of water by the bed and walked to the door. Just before leaving she added, "You know, I suspected you weren't actually a fox. I'm not about to apologize for keeping milord from harm, but I fear I was too greedy when I set that trap in the woods." Pearl closed the door before I could comment.

There was also a package that contained my dress, along with a letter that read:

Dearest Spinel,

I cannot say that I truly understand what possessed you to so violently get between Steven and I yesterday evening but know that I hold both of you in the highest esteem. Ironic as it may seem, you two are the only genuine friends I have made my whole life. I've already arranged for an extended stay once I have finished my business at the capital.

Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't tell admit to your having played me and the empire for total fools. That is something that cannot and will not stand. Maybe its my love of romance, but defeating you seems like a worthy goal.

Sincerely,

Connie

P.S. If you're the evil enchantress, I guess that makes me his knight in shining armor.

Had she seen something that I hadn't? More importantly who was the crazy one here? I started to laugh as, with no small amount of discomfort I slipped on the dress. Maybe there were worse roles to play. Just then Steven knocked, "Spinel? May I come in."

"Yes," I said, tossing the letter into the unlit furnace.

He sat down and seemed a little nervous. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say but couldn't.

"Pearl finally dragged you away for a bath, huh?"

He scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, you had me really worried the last few days. I couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible."

I smiled. "Ya expect me to believe that's why you were here the whole time?"

"Okay, so maybe that wasn't the only reason."

"Well doofus, you have a captive audience."

"You were the vixen the whole time?"

My magical abilities were still recovering, but I could manage a small trick. An illusory pink fox tapped at the window before fading into mist. "Sometimes it was me, sometimes it was a trick." I had to stop to clear my throat. "But… yes."

The smile he gave me was infectious. Steven inundated me with question after question, and it was satisfying to at last come clean about my playing cupid all those years. It went on for most of the morning, and well into the afternoon. Occasionally that nervousness he exhibited when he entered returned to break up the conversation.

"What do you really wanna know?" I said, my voice cracking with annoyance.

"Why did you do it? Why put us together only to try and tear us apart? You even told me you were a friendly fox." He looked like a weight had fallen off his shoulders.

I tried to giggle, but it sounded more like a growl. "Would you believe I picked then to have a bout of jealousy?"

That smile returned as he moved to sit beside me. "I think I might just."

"How can you be so happy with the outcome of all of this?" Playfully, I poked his nose with my good arm.

The boy stretched out, letting out a yawn, "Well I think it's safe to say that life will never be so quiet again. This little hunting trip really brought all the chaos of the outside world here, literally. Connie has bought a hundred acres for her heh, summer cottage."

"Not exactly subtle, is she?"

"Says the woman who turned into a fox to play the over enthusiastic lap dog." To add insult to injury he patted my head. "You'll play nice next time, right?"

I stuck out my tongue, "Not a chance."

He stood up, "Well, I suppose I should get you something in the way of lunch. Pearl say's you should take it easy for a couple more days." The boy winked, saying, "So you've got until tomorrow before she brings down the proverbial, if not the literal axe."

"What did you think of the hunt?"

"It's wonderful, but who said it would ever end."

-Back in the Garden-

Spinel wasn't amused, "When I asked yah to let me be center stage instead of that ugly clod, I didn't think you'd bound me to a bed the whole time!"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked with a yawn.

"Okay, okay, so hear me out, Connie turns out to be an infamous fox hunter, and wants nothing more than to take our darling protagonist and mount here head on a wall." With a twirl she pulled out her scythe, "So that's when she draws a sword and announces that it'll be a duel to the death!" She started to giggle.

Spinel settled down next to me, "Okay, how about next time I put you in the driver's seat?"

Just before I fell asleep, she tugged at my sleeve, "Wait. Was that a hint? Steven? Steven!"

[The End of the Hunt]

Author's Note: Alright, I'll admit I got a little more carried away with the length of this particular story, but I hope it was worth while for everyone. I had a lot of fun with world building in "The Hunt," and am open to possibly doing a follow up in a future 1001 Nights' story. As always, thanks so much for reading!