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

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Elf Saga: Bloodlines (Part 1: Curse of the Jaguar) Page 9

by Joseph Robert Lewis


  “She’s a big girl, she’ll survive.” I look down at the little armada below. “What sort of ships are those?”

  Amara pulls a small golden spyglass from within her coat and peers down, saying, “Judging by the sails and flags, I would wager they are trading ships from Shihoku, Katagal, Rachatai, Varada, and Tenjia, as well as several fishing vessels from the nearby islands. And I have no doubt that more than a few of them are corsairs.”

  “Corsairs?” Rajani asks.

  “Buccaneers, privateers, freebooters.” Amara tucks away her spyglass. “More commonly known as pirates.”

  “Oh.” Rajani nods thoughtfully. “The sexy kind with colorful costumes and dashing good looks, or the gross kind with rotten teeth and scurvy?”

  “An entertaining mixture of the two, no doubt.” Amara smiles. “My father was one of the former for many years, but he employed more than a few of the latter as well. So might I suggest we land away from their harbor, and make every effort to remain hidden while we search for Lozen?”

  “Seconded!” Rajani says.

  “Fine, whatever.” I point to the southeastern shore at the edge of the volcanic cliff. “There. Looks like a safe beach with a stream. We can hide the ship in the stream, under the trees, and then get some shut-eye.”

  The freckled Feyeri circles the island again, still at a great height, and then carefully brings us down to the beach and the stream, and gently slides the gleaming Valkyrie under the wide fronds of the palm trees at the edge of the forest. Insects chirp and monkeys chitter in the distance, but there’s no sight or sound of pirates here.

  “What rare joy,” Amara says dryly as she clumsily descends over the railing to limp across the grass. “I never thought I’d be so grateful to merely stand on solid ground again. Now, if you please, I believe we can have a warm fire and a secure shelter in place within a quarter hour, if you minimize your chatter and focus on your tasks.”

  “Our tasks?” I smirk at her. “You’re not dead yet, Jingles. Sweep out that spot there and start gathering tinder.”

  She glares back for a moment, and then hobbles off into the woods, leaning heavily on her golden cane. I turn my attention to the bags under the seats. “Okay, where’s the camping gear?”

  “Here, let me.”

  Rajani bends down to pull on one of the bags, and at that moment two men come crashing and thrashing out of the brush along the bank of the stream just a short stone’s throw away from us. I don’t recognize their short ears or their loose brown shirts, but I do recognize the pistols jammed in their belts and the look in their eyes as they stare up at the wondrous flying ship and the two young women standing in it.

  The shorter fellow mutters, “Dibs on the fat one,” and he tugs a rust-spotted flintlock from his belt.

  Oh shit.

  I tackle Rajani to the deck, and the last thing I see is the taller one drawing an even rustier pistol.

  “What are you…?” Rajani stares at me as two gunshots shatter the quiet jungle, silencing the crickets and monkeys utterly.

  But the shots don’t crack against the hull of the ship or whine overhead. Instead, I hear two heavy thumps on the sandy ground. I peek over the rail and see both of the gunmen lying still with dark pools of blood spreading over the dirt beside them. A rustle draws my eyes to the right and I see Amara emerge from the forest with a smoking flintlock in each hand.

  “You’ve got two of those things?” I stare at her golden guns, wondering if I need to search this woman before she pulls a cannon out of her pants.

  “Miss Rezhiri, I regret to inform you that our first pirate encounter was not with the jolly sort of swashbuckler you were so looking forward to meeting,” the princess says as she inspects the bodies. “But these unfortunate gentlemen no doubt have comrades who will come looking for them, eventually. And we should not be here when they do.”

  “What did you shoot them with?” I ask, but I already know. There’s no glow of alchemic acid, and the men are lying utterly still.

  “Lead, naturally.” Amara quickly searches the bodies, pockets a number of small items, and then shuffles back toward us.

  I watch her climb back into the ship, clawing at the rail with her long bony fingers and huffing with the meager effort of hauling her feather-light frame inside. Part of me wants to yell at her for killing, and for killing so casually, but she did save our lives… still… ugh. “Try not to do that again.”

  “Excuse me?” She raises an eyebrow, clearly baffled.

  “Don’t kill anyone if you don’t have to.” I glance at Rajani and gesture to the controls.

  Amara sits down to begin reloading one of her ornate golden pistols. “My dear Genesee, I will kill as many people as I feel it necessary to protect you, your adorable companion, this fantastically useful craft, and of course, my own precious self. As I am certain you would do as well.”

  “I don’t kill people,” I say loudly.

  “Then consider it a blessing that I do,” she purrs with that soft, silken voice of hers. “Because I can assure you that those two gentlemen would have had no qualms about robbing, assaulting, enslaving, and murdering the both of you.”

  “You don’t know that.” I turn away from her as Rajani backs the ship out of the streambed toward the beach. I know the princess is right, but I don’t want her to be right. I don’t want to live in that world, in her world, in the real world. In Lozen’s world. “Where I come from, people don’t kill people except in war, and even then, there are rules.”

  Amara merely smiles and turns her attention to her weapons, humming as she prepares them to kill again.

  A few minutes later we find a small clearing at the top of the beach, not as secure as the stream, but good enough to shield the Valkyrie from prying eyes for the night, and we set about making camp. Rajani’s faeries conjure up a small feast of yams, bananas, papayas, mangoes, coconuts, and breadfruits, and we eat in silence around our fire, listening to the cries of the strange birds in the jungle.

  “I like my body,” Rajani says softly, out of nowhere. “And you know what? Skinny people look wrong to me. No offense, Your Highness. But I prefer curves and muscles.”

  Amara pauses to peer at her, and then resumes eating without saying a word.

  “So do I.” I toss a coconut shell aside. “Don’t worry about what that guy said, Raj. You’re beautiful.”

  “Oh, I know.” She winks and finishes her roasted bananas. “So do you have somebody waiting for you back home?”

  “No, not really. There was a boy, a while ago.” I shrug. I try to smile as I touch my scarred cheek below my blind eye. “But I’m sure I’ll be beating them off with a stick when I get back.”

  “Your poor face…” Rajani pouts. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what? I’m the idiot who tried to fight a dragon with my bare hands. That’s on me, not you. You didn’t scar me, Raj. You saved me. Remember that.”

  She nods, looking less than completely convinced.

  Hours later, they’re both asleep and the fire is down to embers, and I’m sitting watch alone, listening to the ocean caressing the pale sand of the beach and watching a hundred thousand stars float across the dark heavens, and for a moment I forget to be angry or depressed or worried. The universe parades above me, and the ocean hums to me, and the forest rustles quietly with the adventures of unseen little creatures, all so soft and gentle and harmless. No yelling, no running, no shooting. Just sitting and watching and listening...

  So I let them sleep. I don’t need it as much as they do. I just want this beautiful night to go on and on, quiet and serene. I can think about something good, something useful. I want to make a canoe like that crystal ship we saw in Kanero, the one Rajani’s parents use. I want to see those lines sculpted in warm, beautiful wood, maybe with twin hulls...

  And then I hear voices.

  I sit very still, listening. Two elves, a man and a woman. The woman speaks, the man laughs. And then I see them in the distance, two dar
k figures in the starlight, coming closer, walking along the water’s edge. I quickly scan the beach, wondering where they’re going or what they’re doing, and then I see something, a long dark shape at the edge of the forest poking out of a heap of rotting bark and banana leaves. It could be a small boat. Are they pirates? Or just fishermen? My gut says pirates.

  The couple comes closer and I see that the man is wearing a loose white shirt and dark trousers, not unlike the two pirates Amara killed, but the woman is wearing a strangely woven dress with a pattern that alternates violently between light and dark shapes, so that it seems to shiver and dance as she moves. And her hair is piled up on the center of her head in a style I saw once among the people of the plains back home, making her sharp ears look wonderfully long and slender.

  I take my hatchet in hand, but stay still and silent, watching them. The fire is all but dead now, and I don’t fear they will see or smell it, not here, so close to the salty sea breeze.

  They stride up to the dark shape and begin to strip away the piles of bark and leaves, revealing the low shape of a shallow canoe, but instead of dragging it toward the water, they pull out tools from inside it.

  Shovels.

  “Do you know where we’re going tonight?” the woman asks.

  “You know, I do. I have the perfect little spot all picked out. It has absolutely everything, even moonlight,” the man says. By his tone, I’d say he’s trying to make the woman laugh. By her face, I’d say he’s never going to succeed.

  “Where?” she asks.

  “Out across the lower path,” he says. “I spotted it last week. There’s a charming little ledge there with a bare minimum of big pointy rocks where the ground looks nice and soft. Perfect for treasure hunting.”

  “Mm hm.”

  They shoulder their tools and start walking again. Straight toward me.

  Damn.

  If Amara was the one on watch, I’m sure she’d have shot them both by now, so it’s their lucky night, isn’t it? I stand up and call out, “Stop right there, folks. Tools on the ground, hands where I can see them, or… bad things will happen.”

  The couple freezes.

  “Holy crap, the trees are bossing me around now,” the man says as he peers at the jungle. “Not to mention the fact that the trees sound an awful lot like a lady-type person from the Union.”

  The woman keeps her shovel on her shoulder as she calls back to me, “Hello, mysterious person. We don’t have any money, assuming that’s what you want. But if you’d like to wait a few hours, you might have better luck robbing us on our way back.”

  Rajani and Amara both start to mumble and move in their blankets on the ground. I step away from them and into the starlight at the edge of the beach. “No robbers here. Just travelers.”

  “Oh. Excellent.” The woman flashes me a ridiculously wide smile, and I see that her lips are jet black, and she has some sort of black tattoo on her chin, and similar swirling patterns inked into the shaved sides of her head between her dark hair and her slender ears. “We’re not robbers either. Pleasure to not-be-robbed by you. But if you’ll excuse us, we do have work to do.”

  She starts walking past me and her friend follows her, but he casts me a much more worried look.

  “Whoa, not so fast. Where’s your ship?” I ask. “Where’s the rest of your crew?”

  “I left mine,” the man says with a shrug. “Not a very dramatic parting of ways. It was them, not me. They were needy, I was more needy, you know how that goes.”

  “And I never had any,” the woman says cheerily. “Crew, that is.”

  “Well, you’ve got one now,” the man says, raising his hand sheepishly.

  “You and I are not a crew,” she says. “We’re… partners. Sort of. Accidentally, and temporarily.”

  They’re still walking across the beach and seem to be looking for a path into the woods. I glance back at Rajani just as she wipes her eyes and mumbles something. “Stay here,” I tell her, and I stride after the two strangers. I’m not getting a dangerous vibe from them, but I don’t need any pirates coming after us either.

  “Hey, hold on.” I catch up to them. “What’s this treasure you’re looking for? Is it near here?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” The man holds up one hand. “That would be privileged information, missy, and you don’t have the privilege… of… being privileged. Whatever. It’s private.”

  “Are there more of you?” I glance back down the beach. “More partners?”

  “Why would I want more partners?” he asks incredulously. “That’s more people to share the wealth, and despite my disarming nature and beguiling smile, I’m really not a sharing kind of guy.”

  “It’s true, he’s not,” the woman says, giving him a critical look. “Still, he’s smarter than he looks, and that’s saying something.”

  “Hey.” He frowns at her.

  She shrugs. “Just being honest.”

  “Wait, you heard us talking about the treasure?” The man frowns at me. “You heard me say where we’re going?”

  “Uhm… no.” I shake my head and take a step back.

  “You did, didn’t you?” The man sighs and says to his partner, “Well, now we have to tie her up.”

  I turn and run back to camp, yelling, “Rajani! Amara! Wake up!”

  They’re both on their feet when I dash up to the warm ashes of our fire. Rajani has her dragon bone knife out, and Amara has both pistols raised when the two strangers jog into the clearing behind me. I hold out my arms, separating my companions from the treasure hunters, and say, “Now look, no one wants to die and no one has to die, so let’s just talk about this.”

  “Holy crab, that’s a… a flying ship!” The man lets his shovel drop to the ground as he stares up at the Valkyrie hovering above the sand and grass.

  The woman with the tattoos looks at me with this strange expression of extreme concern and distrust, her lips and brows wrinkling intensely. “Who are you people?”

  “If I may interject,” Amara says, “You will note that I have the firearms, and so I will be asking the questions. Who are you? And please don’t lie. I’d hate to waste my ammunition convincing you to be forthcoming.”

  The man blinks at the twin golden guns, and then he shrugs in an utterly unconcerned manner. “Xiang Dae, dealer in exotic antiquities and devilishly charming appropriator of things that don’t exactly belong to me. Pleased to meet you all on this lovely evening.” He winks at Rajani.

  The tattooed woman goes on frowning at me, and then at the ship, and then at Amara. “Nahina.”

  Amara thumbs one pistol hammer back.

  “Nahina Nakaroa,” she says testily. “I fish for things. Mostly fish.”

  “And how did you come to discover our camp?” the princess asks.

  “We didn’t come to discover anything,” Xiang says. “You're the ones who parked your flying ship right next to our tools.”

  “It’s true, I saw them take the shovels from a canoe a moment ago,” I tell Amara.

  Xiang is still gaping at the Valkyrie. "That ship really is flying, isn’t it?"

  “Why do you have a flying ship?” Nahina asks sternly. “Where did you get that?”

  “My mom gave it to me,” Rajani says. “You know, so I can go places. Shopping. Sight-seeing. Picking up boys.”

  “Your mother? Who is your mother?” Nahina looks grimly at the green-haired girl. “Is she the woman who crashed on the mountain?”

  “On the mountain?” I turn to peer up at the black shape of the volcano as if I’ll see Lozen fighting a small army up there in the darkness. “You’ve seen her? Where is she? What’s she doing?”

  Nahina glances at the mountain. “She’s ruining our life’s work, that’s what she’s doing.”

  “Oh, well that sounds like her.” I nod.

  “Sounds like who?” Nahina demands. “Who is she?”

  “My mother. She’s my mother, all right?” I frown at her. “So… can you take me to her?”r />
  “Why?” Nahina’s face is so stony now that I can’t remember what her huge smile looked like a minute ago. “So you can join her? Help her?”

  I sigh. “Not even a little bit. She walked on out my family years ago and left a pretty broad wake of misery and pain behind her. I just want to talk to her for a minute. That’s all.”

  “Really? That’s a sad little story, and I don’t like sad little stories. I’ve heard too many,” Nahina says softly. “But that’s not important right now. Right now, what’s important is whether you can get rid of that woman. So, can you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Why?”

  Nahina’s eyes harden. “Because we’d like to be rid of her.”

  Xiang smiles and pats Nahina on the shoulder. “What my lovely partner is trying to say is that we would both sincerely appreciate it if you could convince your mother to move on. She’s, well, she’s been here a couple weeks now, and she’s got us all a bit scared.”

  “Scared?” Rajani asks.

  “She’s killed a dozen men, and crippled three dozen more.” Nahina goes on frowning at me. “And since she’s sitting on fifty kegs of rum, we’re not hoping to see her sober any time this month.”

  “She’s drunk?” I don’t remember Dad ever saying that she drank much. I shake my head. “Fine. Whatever. Where is she?”

  “In the best seat in the house.” Xiang points up to the broken bowl of the dead volcano. “She’s right there, at the Yagari Gate.”

  “Yagari?” Amara slowly holsters one of her guns and approaches Xiang, and rests one long-fingered hand on the back of the treasure hunter’s neck. “My friend, I’d very much like you to tell me everything you know about Yas Yagaroth.”

  “Sorry, friend, but I don’t think we have time for that,” Xiang says as he tries to wriggle out of the princess’s grip.

  Amara gently taps him on the chest with the barrel of her second pistol. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of how we use our time?”

  “Well, it’s a long walk up to the Gate, if that’s where we’re going tonight.” Xiang eyes the gun on his chest. “Friend.”

  “Not to worry.” Amara flashes a cold smile. “We’re not going to walk there.”

 

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