“Time to say goodbye, apprentice,” the Tigress said from the doorway. “We sail in less than an hour.” The look in the woman’s eyes made Nettie want to run and hide, but there was no place left to go. The Tigress raised her hands.
“No!” Li’s left hand rose, a massive fireball growing between his fingers. The air seemed to swim as he hurled the fireball at the Tigress, surrounding her in violent flames. Nettie jumped to her feet, staring in amazement as the small woman stepped through the flames.
“It is time someone taught you some manners, apprentice.”
Nettie never saw what sent Li flying across the room. One minute he was standing still, the next he was sailing through the air. He struck the far wall with a loud thump and lay unmoving on his side.
“Li!” Flames raced across the floor, rising up before Nettie in a fiery wall.
“He is mine,” the Tigress said above the crackling flames. “If not in life, then in death. I will have his power either way.”
The curtain beside Li’s head burst into flames.
“No!” Nettie cried. Fire licked at the hem of her dress as she rushed the flames. She backed off, sobbing in frustration. Her eyes burned with the intense heat. The skin on her face tightened. Suddenly, the monkey was beside her again, yanking on the skirt of her dress. Before she knew what was happening, he’d torn the skirt off, jumping up and down as he tossed the burning cloth aside. Then he grabbed her hand and yanked her toward the door. Another monkey joined the first. Together they dragged Nettie toward the door. She stopped in the doorway. She had to get to Li . . .
She stumbled as someone shoved her aside. The big man from downstairs shouldered his way through the flames, snatched Li off the floor, and took the woman’s hand. Nettie stared at the woman’s impassive face, pale white through the wall of angry flames.
Then the Tigress smiled, and they were gone.
• • •
Somehow, Nettie found her way downstairs through the smoke. She stumbled outside, fell back against the wall, and drank in huge gulps of the damp air. The monkeys chittered and squawked, then grabbed her dress and pulled her away from the wall. She followed them blindly down the street, too tired and heartsick to fight. The monkeys finally stopped. Nettie stared down at the wooden planks for a moment, then lifted her head and looked around. It felt like she’d been inside all day, but from the way the fog was thinning, it was only about noon. She had to find Li, had to get him away . . .
“I was beginning to wonder if ya’d make it out.”
Nettie’s heart leaped into her throat. She stared at the post in front of her, a post that was only half wood. The rest was raven. The black bird was as tall as the monkeys and looked twice as mean. The raven shook his head, ruffling his shiny black feathers, then settling them back into place. “Looks like yer having trouble with the Fire Master.”
“Where . . . ?” Nettie started. “How . . . ?” This day was getting stranger by the minute.
The raven clacked his beak. “Ya called me,” it said. “With yer singin’. Same as ya called them two fiends.” He pointed his beak at the monkeys.
But the monkeys can’t talk, she thought, struggling to understand. She studied the raven’s glistening feathers and finally nodded. She’d talked to Air and Water spirits before, why not a bird? “Can you help me?” Nettie asked. “My brother . . .”
“She’s wantin’ his magic.” The raven turned his head sideways and peered at her closely with a glittering black eye. “Yer brother’s in grave danger.”
Nettie chewed her lip, trying to decide what to do. At the far end of the building, a cart pulled onto the wood planks and rumbled down the street. Nettie stared at the huge man pulling the cart. Inside the cart sat a woman and a small man who looked like he was sleeping.
The Tigress.
“Stop!” Nettie ran after the cart, screeching as she tripped on an uneven plank. She fell, pain shooting through her ankle and knees.
The woman turned to look at Nettie. She held her gaze for a long moment. Then she smiled and said something to the man pulling the cart. The man broke into a jog, pulling the cart out of sight around the next corner.
“No!” Nettie stumbled to her feet and broke into a limping run. She raced around the corner and stopped, panting. The cart was nowhere in sight.
“They be heading for the pier.” The raven swooped low in front of her, then rose into the air. “I’ll keep watch. Get there as fast as ya can.”
Nettie’s thoughts raced faster than her feet. Why was the Tigress taking her brother to the pier? She ignored the stabbing pain in her ankle, dodging around a pair of horses pulling a wagon loaded with barrels. Her heart sank as she remembered the Tigress’s words. A ship! The Tigress had said they had a ship to catch.
Nettie’s stomach twisted. She couldn’t let them get on that ship. If they did, Nettie would never see her brother again.
She put on a burst of speed, thankful that she had often raced Li through the woods, leaping over rocks and crossing streams on unsteady logs as they fought to see who could get home first and win the biggest slice of strawberry pie. Li could outrace her with strength and speed, but Nettie had accumulated a number of tricks that let her win every once in a while even with a twisted ankle. She used one of those tricks now, cutting down an alley too narrow for the cart and hoping to catch up to them on the other side. She had never run so fast. She dodged between people, under horses, and around barrels, finally feeling her feet hit sand.
She leaned over, trying to catch her breath. Her side hurt, her heart felt like it was going to jump right out of her chest, and pain stabbed through her ankle every time she shifted her weight. She drew in a deep breath, trying not to choke on the dead-fish stench permeating the air. The fog had lifted, revealing the long wooden pier stretching out into the azure bay. Gulls cried overhead, and a pelican splashed into the water close by.
Midday wasn’t as busy as early morning at the wharf, but there were still people coming and going along the pier, some laughing, some cursing, some glowering at anyone close by. Ships drifted lazily up and down on the waves, their masts creaking as they swayed back and forth as if waving goodbye. Several ships were tied up to the pier while others sat at anchor farther out in the bay.
The raven landed in front of her. “They’ve got him trussed up like a goat. He’s in the boat headed out to yon ship.” He pointed with his beak. Nettie squinted, trying to see what the raven was pointing at. Finally, she spotted a small rowboat pulling away from the pier.
“Kin ya row a boat?”
Nettie scowled and straightened up. “Of course I can row a boat. At least, I think I can.” The last time she’d actually been in a rowboat had been when she was eight years old. Here, in San Francisco.
The raven pointed again with his beak, indicating a second rowboat tied up to the pier. “Get yerself on board. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Why are you helping me?” Nettie suddenly asked. She held her breath as the raven looked her over again, tilting his head one way, then the other.
“I told ya. I heard ya callin’,” he finally said. “Singin’ that song. Now get yerself gone. Time’s a-wastin’, and that ship’ll be on its way back ta China on the next tide.”
No one paid attention to Nettie as she limped down the pier and clambered down the splintery ladder to a small rowboat tied to the bottom rung. She clenched her teeth as a wave rocked the boat, sending pain shooting through her ankle. She struggled with the coarse rope, tugging hard to get the stubborn knot loose. Just when she thought she’d torn the skin off her fingers, the knot pulled free. Quickly dropping the rope into the bottom of the boat, she shoved hard against the ladder, almost losing her balance as the boat drifted free. She plopped down on the seat and glared at the oars propped high on the bow. It took both hands and all of her weight to lift each blade into position. By the time she
had both oars in the water, the boat had drifted a good distance away from the pier.
Far ahead she could see the Tigress sitting in the bow of the other boat while the big man pulled on the oars. Li was nowhere in sight.
Nettie grabbed the oar handles. At first she could only manage one oar at a time, sending the boat spinning in circles. She concentrated on lowering both oar blades into the water at the same time, pulling both handles together, then shoving the handles down into her lap, raising the blades back out of the water. One stroke, two strokes—then one blade twisted sideways and slapped down, splashing water across her lap while the other blade dug deep into the foamy sea, sending the boat into another dizzying circle.
The White Tigress was already halfway to the ship.
Nettie gritted her teeth and pulled harder on the oars, managing to turn herself in another half circle. She gave a little gasp of despair. She had to catch the Tigress before the woman got Li onto the ship, or she’d never get her brother back.
The boat rocked ever so slightly, then began to turn. The sound of water slapping against the hull turned into a gentle gurgling and then a hiss as the boat moved faster and faster through the water. Nettie let go of the oars and rubbed her sore hands. The pain in her ankle and knees had dulled to a slow throb.
“Thank you,” she said to the two nymphs guiding the boat. Her arms ached, and her hands felt like she’d washed a hundred pots of filthy miners’ clothes. The boat moved swiftly between the ships and out into open water.
They were moving fast, but would they be fast enough to catch the Tigress?
Nettie scanned the horizon, looking for a sign of the huge raven, and saw nothing except a small black cloud drifting across the water. Panic bubbled deep in her stomach, a cold fear that threatened to turn her into a frozen statue. What if she did catch the Tigress? She was only a twelve-year-old girl. She had no weapons to fight with, no magic to wield against the woman’s fire.
Canvas snapped, and shouts carried across the water. Nettie glanced up at the ship, startled to find it less than a pier’s length away. Sailors clambered up the masts, rapidly lowering sails and tying off ropes.
No use getting caught unprepared. Nettie pulled off her boots. Then she slipped off her blackened petticoats. If she ended up in the water, at least she’d be able to swim.
Water slapped her face as her rowboat drew up alongside the Tigress’s boat. The big man’s oars prevented Nettie’s vessel from getting too close, but she was near enough to see her brother crumpled at the Tigress’s feet. Though the woman’s expression stayed calm, her dark eyes burned like coal. Slowly she raised a hand, displaying the red-and-orange salamanders writhing up her arm.
Nettie’s stomach churned, suddenly feeling like she’d just eaten a big batch of sour butter. She sang through gritted teeth as she lifted a heavy oar from its mounting and stood, legs spread wide to keep her balance in the rocking boat. She swung the oar back behind her, then whipped it forward. The blade burst into flame just before it slammed into the huge man’s head.
Nettie sat down, startled that she’d actually hit something. A sylph materialized close by and pointed over Nettie’s shoulder. Seagulls and crows and starlings of all shapes and sizes descended on the Tigress’s boat in a thunderous cloud. The Tigress ignored the raking claws and stabbing beaks, hurling ball after ball of blazing fire into the sky. The air filled with the stench of burning feathers as birds fell by the dozens, their flaming bodies dropping into the water like burning cannonballs. Sylphs whipped through the air, trying to divert the fireballs. Nymphs swam through the sea, thrashing the water into huge waves that rocked both boats violently. The huge man rose to his feet, swinging one of his oars like a madman.
The raven dove into the midst of the battle, claws outstretched. His black feathers glittered as he grabbed the big man’s collar, pulled him off balance, and let go. The boat shifted beneath the man’s feet, and he tumbled into the sea. The raven dove again, snagged the Tigress’s hair, and dragged her toward the side of the boat. Nettie’s heart leaped as the Tigress lost her balance and fell into the boat.
The raven’s left wing exploded in fire. The huge bird screamed and disappeared, leaving the Tigress sprawled over the edge of her boat. The woman shoved herself to her feet, a snarl on her normally placid face. Face distorted in anger, the Tigress flung her fists into the air over and over. Fireballs lit up the sky, the rest of the birds dropped like rain, and the sylphs disappeared.
Nettie watched the destruction with a sinking heart. There was no one left to help. No one who could save Li from whatever horrible fate the Tigress had planned for him.
Except her.
Nettie dove into the water and swam toward the Tigress. Nymphs gathered close, swimming effortlessly beside her. The water darkened as she entered the boat’s shadow.
“Lift me,” Nettie cried as she kicked hard, driving her body up out of the water. Strong hands grabbed hold of her legs and waist as a pair of nymphs rose up beside her. Nettie caught sight of the Tigress’s startled face, white in a tangle of black hair, and then she grabbed the edge of the boat and pulled.
The nymphs pulled with her.
The boat capsized, spewing its occupants into the sea. Water splashed into Nettie’s nose and mouth. She coughed, then gasped for air as someone grabbed her bare ankle and dragged her down. Strong hands pulled her up even as she sank, nymphs struggling to help her back to the surface. But the force dragging her down was relentless.
Nettie forced her mouth to stay closed. She peered through the water at the hand clutching her ankle. A hand tipped with vibrant red nails. Black hair drifted through the water like lazy snakes around the Tigress’s pale face. Nettie drew her other foot up and kicked. Over and over and over again, her heel connected with flesh. Finally, the grip on her ankle relented, and she shot for the surface, kicking hard. Her lungs screamed, and her vision started to darken. Nettie kept her jaw locked, refusing to take the watery breath that would surely be her last . . .
Hands grasped Nettie’s elbow—friendly hands, helping hands—lifting her faster and faster. Her head broke the surface, and she inhaled a great, shuddering breath, looking wildly around for her brother. Fear rolled in her belly as the waves lifted and fell.
The water was littered with blackened birds, and her boat rocked gently a short swim away. There was no sign of the Tigress or her big man.
And no sign of Li.
A shadow flowed over the water as the raven circled awkwardly, compensating for his burned left wing. The bird dipped down until he almost landed on the water, then lifted heavily back into the air. Nettie swam toward the spot the raven had touched, refusing to think about what she might find. Her hand touched something cold and stringy, and she almost screamed before she realized she’d found her brother. A pair of nymphs held him faceup at the water’s surface. The rowboat eased up beside them, and the next few moments blurred as the nymphs lifted the pair into the boat.
Nettie sat up, cradling Li’s head in her lap. Tears streamed down her face as his eyes fluttered open. He coughed, then cleared his throat and gave her a crooked smile. She smiled back, feeling like her heart might explode from her chest.
Li coughed again. Then he struggled to sit up, giving her a weak glare. “What’d you do with my strawberry pie?” he asked.
Fire’s Daughter
Elisabeth Waters
“Are you afraid of fire?”
“Not at all,” Sophia Pearce replied calmly. This might seem to be an odd question for Lady Mary to ask the new governess to her twelve-year-old daughter, but Sophia knew more about Eleanora than her mother did. Despite being the daughter of a Water Magician, wife of a Fire Master, and mother of twins Albert, Water Master, and Eleanora, Fire Master, Lady Mary did not know that magic existed. Sophia, who was a Fire Magician herself, knew that it did. She had also been extensively briefed on Eleanora before bei
ng sent to take this post.
“I’m afraid that my daughter is less than enthusiastic about having a governess, and that her education has been sadly deficient. She has a lot to learn, and only five years before her presentation at court.” Lady Mary frowned. “She needs a firm hand.”
“I will do my very best to teach her everything she needs to know,” Sophia said honestly. But I have no intention of telling you everything I’m teaching her. Her most urgently needed lessons are things you wouldn’t believe, let alone understand.
Eleanora was summoned to the drawing room to meet her new governess. Her hair had escaped so thoroughly that it was impossible to tell what its style had been when she’d been dressed that morning. Her gown looked as if she had been climbing trees in it, or perhaps simply tried to destroy it; it also had grass stains, bloodstains, and a sleeve that was almost completely ripped off.
Lady Mary sighed. “Eleanora, this is Miss Pearce, your new governess. Please show her where the nursery is.” She lay back on the fainting couch and closed her eyes, obviously wishing she could ignore both her daughter and the entire situation. Eleanora scowled at her, then turned and left the room. Sophia followed, somehow certain that they would not be heading for the nursery.
She was not surprised to find herself led to a maze in the middle of the garden. “Can anyone see or hear us here?” she asked.
“No,” said Eleanora. “I can do whatever I want to here, and nobody can stop me.” Her attempt to look menacing was quite good for a child her age.
The most important thing I need to do is gain her trust. I need her to work with me rather than against me. “Well, if you left my charred corpse here, it would provoke remark,” Sophia said calmly, “but we will need private places to work. This is probably a good place to give this to you.” She held out a letter. “Albert sent it with me; he didn’t want your mother to see it.”
Eleanora grabbed the letter from her twin brother as if it were a lifeline, broke the seal, and started to read it. After a few seconds, she gasped. “He’s what?”
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