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

by Joseph Robert Lewis

  “Yeah, I know. Some place called Yas Yagaroth.” I shrug at her. “Apparently, it’s lost.”

  “Indeed it is. In point of fact, the search for the lost city of Yas Yagaroth has been my life’s sole object for the past three years. I myself can read and speak the ancient Yagari language, and I have studied every known facet of their culture, science, and history.”

  I suppose that deserves an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Really?”

  “Yes, indeed.” She exhales a long pained breath and straightens up a bit more. “And I believe that I can help you find it, by collecting thirteen ancient artifacts scattered across the globe. Artifacts of great power, buried and forgotten for countless centuries that contain—”

  “Or!” I cut her off. “Or we could just track down the crystal ship that she’s using. It’ll take us straight to her.”

  She narrows her gaze. “I had no idea such a thing was possible. Is this true? Your ship can track Lozen directly to Yas Yagaroth?”

  “According to a certain talking fox, yeah.” I turn to leave. “The fox said my mother took a crystal ship to chase Raven, and Raven is chasing Coyote. I don’t know. There’s lots of chasing going on right now. Anyway, like I said, when I see her, I’ll tell her you’re looking for her.”

  “Stop!” She grabs my arm in her long, bony fingers, and I instinctively yank myself free of her, but this pulls her off balance and she collapses against me, and I catch her, what little there is to catch.

  “Holy crap, I’ve scooped cat litter that weighs more than you.” I can feel how painfully thin she is under all the heavy clothing she’s wearing. I gently push her back up onto her own feet. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing, except that I’m dying eighty years earlier than I should like,” she rasps as she steps back. “Now, Miss Marev, may I please have two minutes of your time? Two stationary minutes, to discuss a business proposition?”

  I look at her, really look at her. Hunched at the shoulders, leaning half her weight on her cane, buried under too many coats, her chest heaving… but her eyes are burning straight back into mine. She coughs into a silken handkerchief and I wince. It’s all a little too familiar, hitting a little too close to home. So I nod. “Yeah, okay. You’ve got three.”

  “Thank you.” She catches her breath again and says, “To begin with, you may rest assured that I have no interest in your mother, Miss Marev. My only interest is in finding Yas Yagaroth.”

  “Because you’re dying?” Rajani asks.

  The princess nods.

  “This thing that’s killing you. Is it because your mother’s an Alcani?” I ask her. “Did you get it from her?”

  “Not at all. This wasting disease has plagued my father’s family for generations, and so I have the benefit of my forebears’ experience and know that there is no cure, and victims rarely live past the age of fifteen.” She bares her teeth in a joyless grin. “Fortunately, my mother is close friends with a powerful Feyeri, and her healing ministrations have given me five more years than I ever expected to live. Unfortunately, the disease is still progressing and the priestess must now attend me every month just to keep me alive. You can see for yourself the high quality of life that I enjoy with this arrangement.” The false smile fades as she coughs into her handkerchief again.

  “So that’s why Big Mom comes here so often.” Rajani nods thoughtfully. “She never said. Patient privacy, you know.”

  “Niya Shakarna is your mother? That may prove most convenient.” The princess glances at her, and then back at me. “Miss Marev, I am told that I have only three months left, at most. So now I am willing to try anything, risk anything, to find a cure for this disease.”

  “What’s this have to do with the lost city?” I ask. “You think the people there left a cure for your disease lying around?”

  “In a sense, yes. Historical documents from Yas Yagaroth describe a miraculous healing device that can cure any disease,” the princess says. “It restores the body to perfect health, regardless of the injury or illness. I intend to find that device.”

  Again I see Andrei and Necalli shivering in their beds, coughing and clutching their chests. I shake my head. “Listen, I’m sorry for what you’re going through, but I’m just looking for my mother. Once I find her, I’m done. I’m out. I’ve already put Rajani in more danger than I meant to, and lost more eyes than I’d care to admit, so I’m not planning to risk even more lives and limbs to chase some faerie tale gizmo that’s probably being guarded by ancient Yagari dragons that shoot miniature dragons out of their noses that explode when they touch you.”

  “Miss Marev, please!” She growls the word through her clenched teeth. “You must understand, there is a young man whom I deeply, deeply love…”

  I nod. “There usually is.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet, you poor thing.” Rajani pouts and pets her arm. “And you want to be all better so you can have hot, sweaty sex with him?”

  “No.” The princess clenches her teeth as she looks up to the ceiling and exhales slowly. “I am already pregnant with his child.”

  “Congratulations!” Rajani cheers.

  Amara ignores her and continues. “Madam Shakarna says it will be a boy, but he won’t be born for another six months, and as I said, I have only three months to live, so you see my dilemma.” She clears her throat and looks into my eyes again. “I want to live to see my son born, Miss Marev. And I will do anything to hold him in my arms, to see him grow up, to give him the childhood that I could never have. I’m not just asking you to help save my own life, Miss Marev, but that of my unborn child.”

  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 ou
t 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.