Elf Saga: Bloodlines (Part 1: Curse of the Jaguar) (8 page)

DAMN IT.

I swallow and look away.

When I left home, Andrei’s widow was just
starting to show. His daughter. My niece.

Damn it all. Does every damn person have a
sob story this good? Holy hell… Well, Rajani doesn’t. So that’s
something. I don’t have to feel bad for her.

There’s a tear trying to work its way out of
my blind eye. I suck it back in and look away from Amara’s thin,
wasted face. “Yeah. Fine. Whatever. We’ll take you to the lost
city. No promises on finding your gizmo, but we’ll try.”

“Thank you, Miss Marev. You have my sincerest
gratitude, and I will compensate you for your efforts as well, of
course. I am, as you no doubt surmise, obscenely wealthy.”

“Yeah, neat. And enough with the Miss Marev
thing, it’s just Gen, okay? So go grab a bag and meet us at the
landing field. I want to get moving.” I start walking.

She clears her throat in a loud and obviously
fake manner.

I stop. “What?”

“I’m afraid there is one other small obstacle
that we must overcome before we can embark on our grand adventure
together,” she says. “I cannot, as it were, leave the palace.”

I turn back and stare at her. “Are you
shitting me?”

“Sadly no. I am not, as you say, shitting
you. My mother has ordered that I remain here, surrounded by my
physicians and guards, and where Madam Shakarna can be quickly
summoned, should I have need of her.” The princess nods down the
hall at the armed men and women standing in the distance, watching
us. “Naturally, I’ve already proposed an expedition to Yas Yagaroth
to her before, and she saw fit to deny my request. Quite
firmly.”

“You don’t expect me to change her mind, do
you?” I ask.

“No, not at all,” she says, displaying her
perfect white teeth in a humorless smile. “I expect you to kidnap
me.”

I stare at her. She seems completely serious,
showing no sign that she thinks this is a batshit crazy plan. “You
realize this is a batshit crazy plan, right?”

“It seems perfectly reasonable to me. You’re
both uniquely talented, and I’ll be assisting your efforts, of
course. It should be simplicity itself.” She coughs into her
handkerchief again.

“Wait, Gen, I think we can do it,” Rajani
says. “If she goes up on the roof, we can just swoop down and scoop
her up in the ship, quick and easy.”

“No, I’m afraid that won’t be possible,”
Princess Amara says. “The only access to the roof of the palace is
by ladder, and I am dismayingly unable to traverse ladders in my
present state.”

I sigh. She can’t even climb a ladder, and
we’re going to fly her to Yas Yagaroth, the lost city of the dead?
Yeah, this is going to end well. “So what do you expect us to do,
Your Frailness?”

She frowns at me. “You have the same physical
strength as your mother, yes? Simply overpower the guards and we
can walk out the front gates.”

“No, no, no. Sorry, but I’m not beating up a
bunch of innocent people for you.” I wave her off. “Look, if you
want to come with us, fine. But I’m not getting caught up in any
stupid court intrigue or family politics. Either you walk out those
doors yourself, or you don’t walk out. Period.”

“Aw, Gen, come on, have a heart,” Rajani
pleads. “She’s dying. And there’s a baby!”

“And I’m sorry about that, but I’m not going
to start a war with Oyera by attacking their soldiers and
kidnapping their princess. I get enough grief back home when my
mother pulls this sort of crap. So no. End of discussion. If we
find the healing gizmo, we’ll bring it back, but no promises. I
have my own problems right now.”

“Do you really?” Princess Amara steps back,
the corners of her mouth stretched down way past frowning or
glaring, so I guess she’s scowling now. I’m not really sure what a
scowl looks like, but we’ll say she’s scowling now. “Guards! Arrest
them!”

“You miserable prick—” An armored hand grabs
my arm on my blind side and yanks me off balance. Looking up I see
a handful of Oyeran warriors, but these elves are nothing like the
guards from the courtyard. These men and women are covered in
ornate steel armor from head to toe, with a baffling arsenal of
short swords, hand axes, knives, and short spears in their hands
and belts. I see leopard skins draped across their chests, ostrich
plumes adorning their shoulders, and dragon horns crowning their
helmets, and I’m fairly confident that these cold-eyed giants
killed each of those beasts personally.

“Seriously?” I glare at the man holding my
arm. “You know who I am. You know how this ends.”

“Yes, we do.” One of the armored women leans
close to my face and blows a handful of powder in my eyes and like
an idiot, I inhale it. I cough once, and I’m out.

Thankfully, there’s no fever dream and I wake
up to the sound of Rajani whispering my name over and over.

“Gen? Gen, wake up. Gen? Can you hear me?
Gen?”

“Blabblarhg,” I mumble as I sit up and wipe
the drool from my cheek. I hear the chains, and then squint through
the bright sunlight at the metal bracelets locked to my wrists and
chained to the floor. “Well, at least there’s no dragon trying to
incinerate me. That’s nice.”

“Gen, over here.”

I look up and see Rajani in the cell next to
me. No chains on her. But she does have her cloak on, with her hood
pulled tight over her green hair, and she’s sitting in the center
of her cage looking sick, pale, and sweaty, as though she’s on the
verge of throwing up or passing out.

“You okay?”

She shakes her head. “Too much metal.
Headache. Dizzy.”

“Oh crap, that Feyeri thing. The gloves. I
forgot about that. You really can’t touch any metal at all?”

She shakes her head and waves her gloved
hands weakly. “I’ll pass out.”

“Shit.” I sit back and look around. Our cells
are actually iron cages hanging from chains a small distance above
the floor, and beneath us is a pool of… something dark and bubbly.
It smells like oil. There are a couple dozen other cages, and about
half of them are occupied by other prisoners who all look Oyeran,
and mostly look guilty, judging by the smug looks they’re giving
me. No chains on them either.

And no guards in the room.

I blink hard as the urge to go back to sleep
tries to shut my eyes. “What did they hit me with?”

“Some sort of heavy anesthetic. It knocked
you out instantly,” she says quietly, casting worried looks at the
other prisoners.

“And what’s that smell?” My nostrils are
burning slightly and my head is throbbing just a little. It might
be a regular headache, or it might be… something worse.

“I think it’s Hadimi seed oil,” she says.
“You feel sick? Like, blackout sick?”

“A little.”

“Here.” She whistles and one of her little
green friends darts out from her hood, slips between the bars of
her cage and mine, and plunges into my hair. I can feel the faerie
crawling around in there against the back of my neck and I have to
fight the urge to swat it. I shiver as tiny fingers scratch lightly
at my skin. “What’s it doing?”

“Just wait a sec.”

And a moment later the pain in my head
fades.

“Wow, that’s a nice trick. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So what’s the deal?” I rattle my chains.
“We’re stuck here until we agree to take Princess Jackass to the
lost city?”

“Probably, but no one’s said anything to us
since we were arrested.” She bites her lip. “Can you get us out of
here? I really need to get out of here. I don’t want to pass out,
or barf. And my moms are going to kill me if they ever find out I
got arrested.”

“Calm down. No one cares if you get
arrested.” I tug on the chains. They feel pretty secure.

“Like you would know.” She shakes her
head.

“I’ve been arrested lots of times.” I shrug.
“No big deal.”

“Really? For what?”

“Trespassing and mayhem, mostly.” I laugh.
“Did you know that’s a crime? Mayhem? Heh. Well, that’s the south
for you.”

“So what do we do? Wait for them to let us
go? I mean, we didn’t do anything wrong. They can’t just keep us in
here, can they?”

I tug a little harder on the chains. “I’m
pretty sure an angry princess can lock up whoever she wants for as
long as she wants, for whatever reason she wants.”

“Quite so.” The door squeaks open and
Princess Amara strides into the prison, her cane knocking loudly on
the stone floor. Two of her personal guards follow her inside, but
they remain by the doorway as she comes toward us on a raised path
between all the oily pools under the cages. “Don’t trouble yourself
too much with those chains, Miss Marev. They were made specifically
to restrain your mother, if she ever returned. Forged by the
alchemists of Aztera, and cursed by Drogori witches. They are,
quite simply, unbreakable. Apparently, Lozen has made many powerful
enemies over the years, and they were all rather eager to help us
capture her.”

I rattle the chains just to make some noise.
“Well, they’re very pretty. I don’t usually wear a lot of jewelry,
but I think I can pull these off. Literally.”

“I doubt it,” she says.

I stand up and wrench my arms upward, and the
cursed chains rip the iron ring out of the floor of my cage.
“Oops.”

She sighs. “You’re still bound, and only I
have the keys.” She holds up a ring of gleaming steel keys, and
then slips them into her pocket.

I glance at the two bodyguards across the
room and call out, “You guys know she wants us to help her escape
the palace, right?”

“Oh, they know,” Princess Amara says loudly.
“And they’ll do everything in their power to stop me. Isn’t that
right, Obatunde?”

The taller warrior nods and calls back, “Yes,
Your Highness. As ordered by Her Majesty.”

I roll my eyes. “You people are crazy.”

“Not at all.” Amara yawns, which devolves
into a hacking cough. “My apologies, but I’m afraid I’ve grown a
bit fatigued. Perhaps I’ll come visit you tomorrow and see how you
feel about helping me then.”

Her exit is painfully slow and annoying, and
when she finally steps out of the room and closes the door, an
angry mutter runs through the other prisoners.

I glance over at Rajani. “Sorry about this.”
I give the chains a serious pull, but they don’t budge, not even
bending a little. “Not sure how I’m going to get us out of this
one.”

“Uhm, well, I probably could, if I could
think straight.”

“Really? How?”

She reaches up into her hood and pokes out
one of her faeries. The little sprite takes one frightened look
around at the iron cage, and then dives back into the girl’s green
hair.

I glance down at the iron ring jangling on my
steel chains. Then I stand at the bars of my cage and reach out
toward her. “Take my hand.”

She gets up slowly, then comes toward me and
reaches for my hand. We can’t quite reach.

“Okay, hang on a second.” I jog back across
my cage and it swings slightly, and I jog forward again and it
swings a bit more. Eight more laps and my cage is swinging enough
for me to reach out and grab Rajani’s hand, and then pull her
closer so I can grab the bars of her cage.

“Stand back.” I grab the bars in my hands and
pull.

They don’t bend quickly or very far, but they
do bend, and after a lot of grunting and sweating and hurting my
hands, the bars are bent wide enough for her to fit through.

She frowns at me, and down at the bubbling
oil below us. “Now what?”

I roll my eyes. Letting go of her cage, I
grab the bars of my own cell and wrench them apart too, and when
the cages swing together again, I grab onto hers and she stumbles
across the gap into my cage, and we swing away.

“Okay, let’s go.” I hold up my cuffed hands
to her.

She blinks drunkenly at me. “I told you, I
can’t.”

“But you’re closer now.”

“I don’t need to be closer to you, Gen, I
need to be farther from all this iron. I’m still in a metal cage.”
She rubs her eyes and wobbles on her feet, threatening to fall
over. “I’m gonna barf. Ugh, I hate barfing.”

I dash to the front of my cage and bend the
bars open there, and then wave her forward. “Here, come on, just
jump onto the stone path and then you’re clear of the metal.”

She leans against me, staring through the
bent bars. “I can’t make that jump.”

“You can’t…?” I frown, scoop her up in my
arms, squeeze us both halfway through the bars, and then I
jump.

The cage swings violently backward, and we
don’t go nearly as far as I was planning, but we make it to the
edge of the walkway, and I quickly kneel down and set her on the
floor so I don’t slip backward into the oil.

“Hey!” one of the prisoners hisses. “Me too!
Get me out of here!”

“Hey, me too!” another whispers.

“Shut up, all of you!” I snap at them. “You
want to bring the guards? I’ll deal with you in a minute. Just shut
up for a second.” Turning back to Rajani, I say, “Feeling better
yet?”

She sits up, rubbing her head. “Give a girl a
second. Do have anything to eat, honey? I’m starving.”

“Uh. No. And weren’t you about to barf?”

“That was so ten seconds ago.” She blinks up
at me. “I need food to heal.”

“Food?” I shake my head. “Who made up all
these stupid Feyeri rules?”

“Um, an ancient sisterhood of women dedicated
to the healing arts?”

“Exactly.” I snort. “A bunch of
fruitcakes.”

“Okay, okay. Forget the food. I think I can
do it now.” Rajani produces the two skittish faeries from inside
her hood and holds them carefully over my shackled wrists. “Can I
have my little guy back, or do you still need him?”

I can barely feel the little faerie clinging
to my hair, and my head has never felt clearer. “I think I’d like
to hang on to him a little longer.”

She nods and looks down at my chains. “Okay.
So, let’s, uh, let’s try, oh, I know, balewood.”