Elf Saga: Bloodlines (Part 1: Curse of the Jaguar) (3 page)

“No.”

“So… where do I get one?” Seriously, are all
magical creatures like this, with the riddles and the half-answers?
How do people not kill them more often?!

“Hm. Tricky. But not impossible. Many years
ago, I knew of an elf called Nadira dal Rezhiri who had a crystal
ship.” Inari looks away toward the northern woods. “Perhaps she can
help you.”

“Nadira?” The name rings a faint bell. “The
ambermagus! Dad told me about her, they were friends back in the
day. She’s from… Aram.”

Aram is on the other side of the world.

Shit.

I shrug and shake my head. Well, I’ve come
this far... “How am I supposed to get to Aram?”

“Take the steamer at the bottom of the
cliff.” Inari nods toward the west.

“What steamer?” I circle around the pond and
just a few paces away I discover the grassy lip of a sheer rocky
cliff dropping away from my boots. A hundred feet below me I can
see wooden docks and a few dozen little homes, small fishing boats
and nets, and one very large ship. An alchemist’s steamship. Amber
stones glow along the railings, casting strange faerie lights in
the sea mist.

“How do I get down there?” I look back, but
the white fox is gone.

Of course it is. Dick. Probably thinks he’s
so clever and mysterious. Or she. Or whatever.

It takes me half an hour to find a safe path
down to the water’s edge and to the little fishing village in the
shadow of the cliff, but the people are friendly and they’re happy
to take what’s left of my gold as well as my pronghorn, so I get a
bunk on the steamer Pride of Garabad, and I try to get comfortable,
and we set sail.

For five weeks.

Five stinking weeks, lurching across the
western sea, winding around islands, wasting time in port after
port, making pointless small talk with fishermen from dozens of
different towns, wondering why the hell I listened to a talking
fox, and waiting, waiting, waiting…

One night we spot a pair of dragons swimming
alongside us, two huge beasts with fins for feet and long necks
that rise out of the sea to turn shark-like heads toward us. I grip
the railing, wondering what Mother would do, wondering how normal
people deal with monsters like these. But the dragons dive below
the waves and we don’t see them again. And as I head back inside, I
see two sailors turn and put away a large gun in an armored locker.
I guess that’s one way to deal with monsters. I’ve never really
liked guns.

I’ve barely made it back to my cabin when I
have another attack. My eyes ache and my skull throbs as I stagger
to my bunk. Lying down helps a little, but the rocking of the boat
makes the dizziness worse, and the pain seems to linger much
longer, even though it doesn’t hurt as much. I don’t know if that’s
a good sign or a bad one. Probably bad.

The waiting drags on. When Dad used to tell
us stories about traveling the world, fighting witches and
nightmares and bring back unicorns from the dead, I guess he left
out how long and boring the actual traveling was.

When we finally reach Aram, I hurry down the
pier into the town of Garabad like I’m afraid the ship will snatch
me back and drag me out to sea again. I stumble around the stony
streets for a few minutes to get my bearings, which is pointless
because I can’t even begin to read the writing on the buildings or
the signs, so I just start going up to strangers and asking,
“Excuse me, but do you know Nadira dal Rezhiri? I’m trying to find
an ambermagus named Nadira dal Rezhiri. Have you heard of her?”

I get a few frowns, a lot of shaking heads. I
have no idea if they’re telling me they don’t know her, or if
they’re just trying to make the annoying foreigner go away. I can’t
say I blame them. I don’t want me to be here either. And for all I
know, they can’t understand a word I’m saying.

“Are you all right, fair maiden?” a man
asks.

I turn to see four strange men and one even
stranger woman casting concerned looks at me. Two of the fellas are
big brutes in heavy Gallian armor, and they have with them an
elderly Drogori in Urskayan rags and a little slimeball with a
crappy mustache, and the woman… what the hell? All she’s wearing is
some sort of metal underwear and a sword. On this very brisk autumn
afternoon. I stare for a minute, and then I blurt out a laugh on
top of a snort, which hurts my nose.

“We’re strangers in this land ourselves,” one
of the Gallian knights says. “On our way to slay a great demon, but
if you are in some need…?”

“Let me stop you right there, buddy.” I wipe
my nose and wave him away. My head is pounding. “Don’t even start.
I can’t deal with a bunch of cardboard cutouts right now. I have
real, actual problems. So piss off. Go kill your naughty goat or
whatever. And get that girl some pants!”

They glare at me and then move along,
revealing another stranger lurking behind them, a young man
clutching a pile of books with his ink-stained fingers. He
hesitates, and then says, “Nadira dal Rezhiri?”

I blink at him. Is this idiot calling me
Nadira?

“You’re looking for Nadira dal Rezhiri?” he
asks. He speaks the trade tongue with a heavy accent, so it takes
me a second to realize that I can tell what he’s saying.

“Oh, yeah. You know her?” I ask.

“No. No, no. I have no dealings with her. I
have never met her myself.” He shakes his head emphatically. “But I
believe she lives about ten leagues north of here, I think. Or she
used to. Near the village of Omoss.” He nods politely, and then
hurries away.

“Ten more leagues.” I sigh, and start
walking.

The next evening I walk into the village of
Omoss, fifty stone houses in a hilly area full of goats and olive
trees. I ask for Nadira one more time, and an old woman points me
up a path to a house on a hill. As I start walking up the hill, I
can’t help but laugh. I’m so tired I have to laugh. The house is a
windmill.

“If I see another one, it’ll become a theme.”
I rub my eyes, unable to stop grinning. “I hate themes.”

The climb up the hill is enough to make my
tired legs ache, and I feel a slight wave of dizziness run through
my head. As I approach the door, I hear singing inside.

I knock.

The singing stops, and a moment later the
door opens.

“Hello! How can I help you?” It’s a girl. She
looks a little younger than me. Shorter and rounder, with a
scattering of fierce freckles across her nose and cheeks. And she
has green hair.

Her green hair is very bright and very long,
curling down over her somewhat large breasts. And her green hair is
full of green leaves and flowers. Pink and purple tulips. In her
hair. Not just tucked into a braid or something. I’m pretty sure
the flowers are growing in her hair. And as she says hello, three
faeries fly up from behind her and perch on her shoulders and head,
clinging to her hair, their tiny naked bodies glowing softly with a
pale green light.

She’s a Feyeri. I haven’t seen one of them in
years.

“I, uh...” My head spins a little and my
stomach gurgles. I haven’t eaten today. Come to think of it, I
didn’t eat yesterday either. When did I last…? “Oh crap.”

I remember falling. I don’t remember hitting
the floor. Which is probably for the best.

I wake up in a bed, sweating under a ton of
blankets with a faerie sitting on my chest about an inch from my
nose, staring at me. I blow at it and it flies away.

“Hello?” I sit up slowly, struggling to push
the covers off. “Ugh, what are these blankets made of, rocks?”

“Oh hey!” The girl with the freckles and
flowers comes hurrying over with a steaming cup and a bright cheery
smile. “Oh good, you’re awake. I was so worried. I mean, I’m still
a little worried. You look terrible, honey. That forehead, you
really need to moisturize. What happened to you?”

“A boat.” I take the cup and drink. It’s a
thick, soupy green tea with milk and lemon, and a dozen other
things that probably belong in a salad, which I would not eat. I
wince and set it aside. “A boat happened to me.”

“Well, whatever hit you, it’s gone now.
Scurvy, red fever, no worries. All fixed now thanks to my little
green friends.”

She’s got a faerie sitting on her necklace,
right in her cleavage, and she’s petting my hair like I’m a lost
puppy. And I wish she’d stop smiling. I also bite back the desire
to tell her she’s wrong, that her faerie magic didn’t fix anything,
not really. I’ve seen Feyeri healers before, when I was much
younger. It’s true they can fix almost anything, but my brothers
and I seem to be the exception.

I pull my hair free of her, and she takes my
fingers in her pink-gloved hands, her smile even bigger than
before, and she whispers, “I know who you are!”

“What?” I tense up. “You do?” This is how
fights start back home, but this time I don’t have a pronghorn to
get me out of here.

“You’re Lozen’s daughter!” She looks like she
just discovered a new breed of kitten to snuggle with at night,
which is to say, too happy.

I look down at my hand and see my jaguar
spots between her gloved fingers. “Uh, yeah. Genesee Marev. Nice to
meet you.”

“Gen! Can I call you Gen? It’s so nice to
meet you!” She shakes my hand wildly. “I’m Rajani. Rajani dal
Rezhiri, at your service. Herbalist, barber, surgeon, gardener, and
Feyeri priestess extraordinaire!”

”Yeah, I guessed that last bit.” I nod at her
hair. “Dad told me about how it turns green when you join the
sisterhood.”

“Your dad? Oh, Wolfram the chef! Little Mom
never stops talking about him. They were best friends!” Rajani
throws her arms around me for a long, bosomy hug. “This is so
exciting! Are your mom and dad here too?”

“Uh, no. It’s just me.” I stand up to escape
any more hugs. The interior of the windmill is mostly one huge
empty tower with ledges and lofts connected by steps and ladders
all the way up to the top. I see beds and tables and lamps and
tools and potted plants all over the place. It’s all wires and
vines, strange machines and exotic herbs everywhere I look. So, a
mess. “What about your mom? Nadira, right? Is she here?”

“No, sorry. My folks are off on another
honeymoon somewhere.”

I stare at her. “Gone? For how long?”

“Oh, who knows? It was a couple of months,
last time.”

“Months?” I lean on the edge of a table. I
just can’t catch a break. Five weeks at sea, thousands of leagues
to the far side of the world, and all for nothing. Unless... “Do
you know if she still has her crystal ship?”

“Of course!” Rajani beams. “They’re off on it
now, wherever they are. Somewhere warm, probably.” She quickly
makes the bed and fetches the steaming cup of green slime.

“So it’s gone too.” I rub my eyes. “Perfect.
That’s just perfect.” I want to flip a table over and smash the
entire windmill to the ground, but I’m pretty sure that won’t help.
Much.

“What’s wrong?” She comes toward me. “It’s
just a little honeymoon. Their eighth or ninth one, I think. Don’t
your parents do that sort of thing?”

I glance at her and then away. “My parents
split up when I was little. It ended… badly. But it’s nice that
your mom and dad are still together.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She pets my arm and
offers me the tea again.

I shake my head. “I don’t suppose we could
grill up a little steak maybe? Or lamb chops, with a little pepper
and butter?”

“Sorry.” She shrugs apologetically. “I’m
vegan.”

Of course she is. I rub my eyes.

She starts drinking the tea herself. “And I
don’t have a dad, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“Two moms. Big Mom and Little Mom. But don’t
tell them that I said that! I don’t think they’d like it if they
knew I called them that in my head.”

“You have two moms?” I stare at her.
“Seriously? How does that even work?”

“Uhm. I don’t know. It seems to work really
well. Do people not have two moms where you come from?”

I shrug. “It’s two more than I have.” Damn
it. Why would I even say that? I don’t want any pity from her. “So,
listen, Rajani, I’m sort of in the middle of dealing with
something, and I need to see Nadira. Like, yesterday. It’s really
important. And urgent.”

“Well, I’m really sorry, but I don’t even
know where she is, or when she’ll be back.” Rajani pouts at me with
her great big puppy dog eyes.

I slump into a chair and stare at the mess of
amber rods and little steel hammers and wire coils on the table in
front of me. I bury my face in my hands and make a loud, stupid
sighing noise, trying to blow out all the anger before it gives me
a heart attack.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
Rajani sits down next to me. “Maybe we can work something out? I
bet I can help if you tell me about it.”

I lean back and stare at her, this happy
little girl with her happy little world with two mothers and her
own personal entourage of faeries. “Well, do you know where the
lost city of Yas Yagaroth is?”

“Sorry, no. Sounds familiar… but no.”

“Then unless you happen to know where I can
find a crystal ship without waiting for your moms to come home,
then no, you can’t help me.” I rub my eyes and look away again.

“Well, actually… technically… I do.”

I look at her sharply. “Do what?”

“I do know where you can find another crystal
ship.” She smiles nervously, then looks away, then looks back at
me, biting her lip. “Okay, so here’s the thing. When I was sixteen,
Little Mom thought I was old enough to drive, so she gave me her
old ship and she tried to teach me to fly it, but I was really bad.
I mean really, really bad. And about a month after I got it I… sort
of… crashed it.”

I blink. “You crashed a flying crystal ship?
Near here?”

“Yeah.”

“And it’s still there?”

“Well, yeah. Big Mom was super pissed. I
mean, they fought about it for like… ten whole minutes. It was
epically awful.”