Riarin was fine despite having nearly been swallowed by a giant snake.

Gin had better control of what went into his mouth than one would expect of the brute. He’d snatched her up when the Hunters arrived, not trusting them even after years of carefully cultivated tolerance.

Then again, with Riarin wounded like she was, Gin wouldn’t have let them near her even if he and Ulven were the best of friends. Her silly old snake got paranoid when someone he cared about got hurt.

So Gin had whisked her away into some entrance into the sewers somewhere, which one didn’t really matter. Riarin vaguely remembered people fussing over her inside the Lucky Lady, Gin’s bar. Her back had been tended to, Gin had got a yelling from someone about running off with someone that was bleeding like Riarin did, but ultimately things had been fine.

Riarin was fine…

Or well, not really. Her son was dead.

Remembering that kept her from leaving bed, even days after the wounds had sealed. They’d brought her to someone’s home, imposed on a worker probably. One of many now fearing for their income now that the brothel lay in ruins.

Riarin had said what she could to reassure, so it was down to trust now. They wouldn’t have let her recover in their home if there weren’t any trust. But she could handle her broken brothel later.

Her son was dead. Her son who had been gone for so many years, only to return with a dream of magic he valued higher than anyone else. Higher even than her, his mother.

Yet the hug had felt real. She fully believed that the hiccup and tears he’d nearly shed had been the real thing. She’d missed him. Thought him dead like her mother. He’d worn her mask. That wretched thing with its wide eyes and red lips, hungry. But Rinrin had hugged her and for a moment Riarin had believed in a future where everything worked out fine. One where he returned from the woods and stayed with her.

Then she’d felt the reality of her son’s choices and known that this wasn’t a reunion, but a goodbye. Even her son hadn’t been cold enough to end her without a goodbye.

If he hadn’t ran away as a child he would have known that such tricks wouldn’t work on her. She had too many debts owed to die that easily. There would always be an extra layer of protection. Hells, if he had come to her, she would have made the consequences of all his murders go away. Anything to pull the pieces of her family back together again. But debts and deals didn’t work on family.

Riarin could call on so many favors, but not to sway her son. Maybe if Gin had caught him in time, maybe if they’d talked… She would have called in every favor she owed just for him. Thrown every chit on the table and let the consequences be damned. Maybe fate had been made up the moment Rinrin made his decision to kill her.

So now Riarin had no son and her mountain of favors remained undepleted.

One such favor had set the rebuilding of her brothel into motion this morning. They would make it bigger this time. With more secret tunnels. Ones large enough to fit that snake of hers rather than just the staff. She would have protection even if she had to build it into the very foundation of her base of operation. This was her turf and she would protect it next time. All of it. Every single person within.

—

Mao’s ribs were broken. A small price to pay for saving someone’s life. A bitter thing to swallow when it came from the death of someone that had once been his friend.

Their relationship had been brief, if full of curiosity and excitement. Mao wished it hadn’t ended like this. Maybe in another world Rinrin wouldn’t have killed people. He wondered how that had started. Surely that wasn’t something you just did. Then again…

Another surge of blinding glee went through his body as Mao clutched his tails. Tails. Plural. His tail had split in two and the pain had been so bad that he’d woken half the street with the way he screamed. But after that it was as if the world bled away, leaving only fluffy contentment and an endless feeling of potential. Power was sweet. He couldn’t have imagined that magic growing stronger could have felt like that.

Josei was concerned of course. He hadn’t left his room since his second tail emerged. She’d thought it were the ribs acting up again. Rinrin throwing him into a wall had done some nasty damage. Nothing he wouldn’t heal from, Mao knew. It was not because he had such an acute sense of how healing worked, but rather because his instincts told him he would be fine. He had a better feeling for it now. Those instincts had grown just a bit louder along with the addition of his second tail.

He should probably be wary of these changes but… his first love was dead and he let that grief take as much of his attention as it needed.

The Hunters he’d sent after Rinrin had filled him with crossbow bolts. Mao felt that now of all times, he was allowed to indulge in grief and something nice. Just this once. Just for a little bit, until things stopped hurting.

He would let his instincts sing with joy for his new tail, feel the magic hum in his veins, and cry until his chest stopped hurting.

Then he would find out what his second tail could do and things wouldn’t be so bad again. He hoped his new power wouldn’t be fire. He had met too many foxes that played too carelessly with fire.