Chapter 32
“We want masks of our own,” Qin, the eldest fox demon said. “They’ll help us on our next hunt.”
“I can make them for you,” the Maskmaker replied, “but my work does not come free.”
“Is it fortune or flesh you seek?”
“I have need for neither.”
“Then, is there something you would have us do?”
The question inspired a most devious thought in the Maskmaker’s mind. He looked up at his loathsome brother, the Sun. He glared up at the Heavens with his blackened heart.
Alone, he never would have stood a chance. But with a small army of indebted demons at his side… He would have to play this carefully, to be sure, but if everything went according to plan, the Maskmaker would finally have his revenge—nearly a millennium in the making.
He cursed the Heavens and the Sun and mankind who betrayed him.
He would blanket the world with these beasts leading the helm and take back what should have been rightly his.
It was not enough to be a god, for clearly one ill-placed arrow could strip him of his power.
The Maskmaker would not find satisfaction until he was the god, reigning supreme over a world built in his image.
“Nothing comes to mind at the moment,” he lied smoothly, “but I propose we make a deal. I will create masks for you, and when the day comes, you must vow to uphold my word.”
The sisters whispered among themselves. They were no strangers to making deals. They did not see the Maskmaker as a threat, for how could anyone, let alone this curious painter, hope to swindle a pack of nine-tailed foxes and live to tell the tale?
“Very well,” the fox sisters said together. “You have yourself a deal.”
The Maskmaker held back his smile. “I need more than just your promise. I must have your vow in blood.”