Page 13 of Bitten By the Basilisk

Down the hall from the baths was a separate space containing three side-by-side pits of pristine volcanic sand that the staff kept evenly heated. Next to the nearest one stood a cart containing towels, brushes, and oils.

Normally, a human would lie in a shallow trench as an employee gently covered them in warm sand up to their chest or chin. Silas, however, would submerge himself up to his waist, where his scales transitioned to skin.

Kenji offered to bring a tea service, which Silas accepted. While the oni was gone, he hung up his robe and shifted forms. Unlike some supes, the transition wasn’t painful, but it took a moment for his legs to fuse and his long tail to unfurl. Although the room wasn’t small, his lower “half” would easily stretch from one side to the other if he didn’t coil it beneath himself.

By the time Kenji returned, bearing a tray of freshly prepared green tea and a small plate of daifuku—individual strawberries enrobed in chocolate and mochi—Silas had burrowed his tail in blissfully warm sand, the rest of him reclined on a towel and a firm headrest.

The oni set the tray within arm’s reach, then smoothed the surface of the sandpit with a long broom.

“Should I return later to assist with any shedding, sir?” he asked as he checked the sand’s temperature.

“I should be able to handle it.”

Kenji nodded. “I remain available, should you reconsider. The next reservation isn’t until midnight, so please take your time.”

At last, Silas was left to his own devices. He twisted to lie on his stomach, the volcanic sand shifting as his tail adjusted. In that position, he drank his tea, savored his daifuku, then settled his head upon his crossed arms, his eyes shut. After such a long day, the quiet room, his full stomach, and the sand’s heat quickly lulled him into a light sleep.

Once in a while, an itch somewhere along his tail stirred him from his nap long enough to roll and twist until the abrading sand satisfied the sensation. Eventually, he would need to emerge and wipe away any sand, then massage his scales with coconut oil. The process took about thirty minutes, so he was loath to begin.

In the middle of satisfying another itch, the clap of something hitting the floor forced him to open his eyes. He expected to see Kenji poking his head in to check on him, but unless he was dreaming, Kenji didn’t look anything like the woman panicking near the entrance, whom he recognized instantly.

The tourist with the red scarf, only she now wore a spa robe identical to the one he’d hung on the wall, her silky hair gathered into a loose, high bun. Several glowing orbs, each no bigger than a child’s fist, surrounded her like fireflies, their golden light turning her skin luminous.

His heart began pounding—at first with joy, then self-consciousness. He couldn’t believe they had run into each other again. And so soon. But the timing couldn’t have been worse. She couldn’t know they’d already met, and he could guarantee she’d never seen his kind before.

For a brief moment that nevertheless felt endless, he was back in his apartment, devastated after the first human ever to see his shifted form flipped out and practically fled.

In her haste to cover her eyes, the woman in the room with him flung her other slipper over the sandpit, yanking him out of his memory.

“I’m so sorry, sir! I—got turned around. I didn’t mean to intrude. Or s-stare,” she pleaded, appearing far more embarrassed than scared, her ears bright red. “It’s such a pretty color that I couldn’t help—” She executed a rushed bow. “Please forgive me!”

Before he could say anything, she stumbled out, still hiding her eyes and bumping her shoulder rather hard into the privacy wall as she fled.

He pushed up from where he lay and called out to her, more out of impulse than intention. “Wait! Alice!”

Chapter Five

Alice

As Alice and her mom approached the women’s entrance of the baths, a robed dwarf exited the men’s side, his cheeks a healthy shade of pink. Mom greeted him by name before leading her into the women’s side, where they hung up their spa robes and scrubbed their bodies at wash stations equipped with low stools, handheld showerheads, and plenty of amenities.

On the other side of a tiled half wall were four large pools of steaming water, two of them already occupied by other clients who sat in relaxed silence.

Once they’d scrubbed themselves clean, they entered the same bath to soak together, laying their heads back on opposite ends. Alice’s legs were so long that her toes ended up touching her mom’s feet, resulting in quickly stifled giggles as they adjusted their positions.

The minutes slipped by as the heat of the bath penetrated her muscles and softened her skin. Unlike a normal Japanese bathhouse, or sentō, Renart’s baths contained a touch of Mom’s illusion magic that gave off one’s favorite scent. For Alice, it was strawberries.

Once the other bathers left, either to the locker room upstairs or to other services, Alice and her mom were free to chat.

“Are you nervous about opening night?” she asked, nudging her mom’s foot.

Mom hummed contemplatively. “A little, but not about my part. At this morning’s run-through, the director decided to change a few of Lucia’s lines, and they had a bit of an argument over it.”

Alice immediately sympathized with the actress, as last-minute changes had been the bane of her existence for a while now.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Lucia’s, of course. Who revises the script just days before the first show?”