Shadow of The Fox (Shadow of the Fox #1) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,112

pinchers, it began to climb, dozens of bright yellow legs moving it up the trunk with frightening speed.

I climbed higher, hearing the hissing and scraping of the yokai as it pursued. As the branches became smaller and narrower, the centipede began to slow. But its body was so long, it was able to reach even the tallest limbs without much effort, though the tree itself began to sway and groan under the monster’s weight.

Finally, there was nowhere else to run. I had reached the top of the tree, and the centipede was still coming. Pulling my tanto, I climbed as far away as I could, watching the bulbous crimson skull push through the branches below my feet. Mandibles scraping together, it slithered up the trunk toward me. The pine creaked and groaned, and the trunk bent and swayed dangerously, but it held.

As it drew closer, and I could see every detail on its hideous, segmented body, I noticed something. The top half of the huge creature was covered in that shiny black carapace that deflected arrows and sword strikes. But the underside, between the dozens of skittering legs, looked softer, almost fleshy. Certainly not the impenetrable armor of its top half. But how to get beneath it was the question.

Raising my tanto with one hand, I started gathering my magic with the other, hoping that a desperate blast of foxfire to its face would distract or startle it long enough for me to do...something.

“Yumeko!”

The familiar voice rang out below me, and close. I spared a glance down and saw Tatsumi on a lower branch, Kamigoroshi engulfed in purple flames, casting the demonslayer in an eerie light. His eyes seemed to glow crimson as he extended his other hand in my direction.

“Jump,” he ordered, making my stomach drop. “Now.”

I swallowed. “It’s an awfully long ways down, Tatsumi.”

“I’ll catch you,” he replied. “I promise. Hurry!”

Well, between getting eaten by a centipede and falling to my death, I suppose I’d take the latter. As the omukade lunged with a hiss, I gathered myself and leaped away from the trunk, a shriek lodging somewhere in my throat as I plummeted downward. I barely had time to panic when something caught me around the waist, halting my downward plunge. Tatsumi pulled me onto the branch and set me on my feet, still holding Kamigoroshi in his other hand. I was shocked at how strong he was, able to catch a falling body, one-armed, from a narrow, uneven ledge without losing his balance.

As I looked into his face, a shiver raced up my spine. His eyes were glowing, a subtle crimson light shining in their depths, looking entirely inhuman.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, and his voice sounded a little different, too. Lower, somehow darker, but strained. As if he was fighting...something.

“The underside isn’t protected,” I told him, seeing his eyes narrow in confusion. “The carapace—the armor—it doesn’t have anything on its belly. You have to strike from beneath.”

His eyes widened, and he nodded. Above us, the omukade swung its head and body toward our branch, hissing and gnashing its jaws. Still holding me around the waist, Tatsumi abruptly dropped from the limb, falling to a branch underneath. I bit back a yelp, resisting the urge to clutch at his haori jacket, as he set me on my feet, gazing up at the long body of the omukade, twisting through the limbs overhead. The head peered balefully down at us, hissed and started sliding through the branches in pursuit.

“Can you lure it away?” Tatsumi asked in a low voice. “Get it to chase you?”

I realized what he was getting at, and gave a shaky nod. “I don’t think that will be much of a problem,” I gasped, as overhead, the omukade snaked through the branches after us, gnashing its jaws.

Tatsumi nodded. “Go,” he ordered, and we fled, scurrying down the trunk, dropping to lower branches while trying to outpace the huge yokai slithering through the limbs like a serpent. About halfway down the tree, I noticed that Tatsumi had disappeared, or I could no longer see him through the leaves and branches.

Something buzzed past my face, startling me, just as an arrow clinked off the centipede’s hide. Hissing angrily, it halted, glaring around for the sudden attacker, perhaps remembering the arrow it took to the face.

“Okame, wait!” I called, glancing down at the ronin. He stood under the tree with a grim look on his face, bow raised and pointed at the centipede. At my words, he