Elf Saga: Bloodlines (Part 1: Curse of the Jaguar) (7 page)

It’s all giving me a headache.

I shove the man off my right arm, and then
the one off my left. They both go tumbling back on their asses.
Then I start to stand up, but the men who fell off my back are
rushing back at me already, so I slam my palms into their chests as
fast as I can. Mostly I manage to hit them, but sometimes I have to
try twice. Stupid lack of depth perception! Two men fly back and
hit a stone wall and three more crash into the other guards.
Weapons and chains rattle and clatter all around me.

The men who are still gripping my ankles and
belt each get a hard kick in the chest and they go flying, and then
I finally get to stand up and brush the dust off my clothes. “Damn
it. Sorry, Raj. I got your shirt all dirty.”

“Freeze!”

I look up.

Another half dozen elves run into the
courtyard, and these guards all have flintlock pistols with glowing
rounds shining in their barrels. Acid bullets made by the
alchemists of Aztera, just like the ones I saw with the soldiers
back in that Chirika village.

Mother once told me they burn like hell. And
she’s a lot tougher than I am.

They level their guns at me from a short
distance. I could probably jump on them and strip away the guns
pretty quickly, but not without taking a few shots at point blank
range, and that sounds very unpleasant, so I raise my hands. Not
very high, mind you. It’s not like they’re actually scaring me. I’m
just tired of this crap. “Okay, okay. I’m freezing.”

“Captain!” one of the men calls out.

A moment later, a very tall, very muscular
woman with extremely long ears and the darkest skin I have ever
seen strides into the courtyard with ten more elves in the white
and gold uniforms of the Oyeran army. The captain has an ornate
pistol on her right hip, a jeweled knife angled in the front of her
belt, and a general aura of command, anger, and disdain. She glares
at me, glares at the men with the guns, and glares at the men who
are still picking themselves up from wherever I threw them.

“Sergeant?” the captain peers at one of the
gunmen.

“Ma’am, they just walked straight up to the
gates a moment ago,” he reports.

“Did they.” The captain frowns at me, and
then at Rajani. “And how did they attack you?”

“They…” The sergeant hesitates. “Well, just
look at her hands, ma’am. Jaguar spots.”

“Yes, sergeant, I can see her hands. Please
lower your weapons.” The captain glares at them as every gun is
pointed at the ground, and then she turns back to us. “I am Captain
Olayinka Oda. Who are you?”

“Rajani dal Rezhiri, ma’am, Feyeri priestess,
at your service, very happy to meet you, you look very nice today,
ma’am,” the green-haired girl says breathlessly, her eyes fixed on
the tall woman.

“Rezhiri?” The captain nods. “I see. You’re
Nadira’s daughter?”

“Yes, ma’am. And Niya Shakarna’s. Ma’am.”

The captain looks at me again. “And you?”

“Genesee Marev. And yeah, I’m Lozen
Xocolatl’s daughter.” My arms are feeling a little sore, so I put
my hands down.

“You have my sincerest apologies,” Captain
Oda says. “I believe my guards mistook you for your mother. They
will be disciplined.”

“Well, I guess it’s totally understandable
that you would mistake me for someone twice my age with twice as
many eyes.” I crack my knuckles. “And it’s just so heart-warming to
see that fancy people in giant cities can be just as stupid and
violent as simple folk in little villages. We really are all the
same on the inside, aren’t we?”

“Again, you have my apologies. Lozen paid us
a brief visit several weeks ago, and left under rather unfriendly
terms.”

“How unfriendly?”

“Banishment.” The captain points to a wall
above and behind me. “We’re still completing the repairs from her
visit.”

I look up and see a large hole in the wall,
the stoneworks all spider-webbed with cracks, and a protective
scaffolding surrounding the damage.

“Yeah, that’s Mother,” I say. “She can be a
real stinker.”

“She crippled two of my men,” Captain Oda
says grimly. Then she looks over at Rajani. “Fortunately, they both
recovered with the assistance of your mother.”

“Yay for Big Mom,” Rajani cheers weakly. “We
saw their ship in the city. Are they here? Can we see them now
please?”

“Your mothers are outside the city, visiting
with the desert sages,” the captain says. “We don’t expect them
back for at least another week.”

“Oh, poo.” Rajani shrugs. “Well, maybe you
can help us. We’re trying to find Gen’s mom.”

“Are you now?” Oda turns a cool gaze on
me.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like her either,” I say
with a shrug. “I’m just trying to get some answers.” I look over at
the bruised men still giving me dirty looks. “I have my own
personal brand of mommy issues.”

“You have my sympathies, but I’m afraid there
isn’t much else I can offer you.” The captain turns and gestures
for us to follow her inside the palace. As we proceed down a broad
corridor past small offices and dorms, she says, “Lozen was here
less than an hour. She demanded to see Her Majesty, then grew tired
of waiting and forced her way into the throne room in the middle of
a closed council meeting with two visiting royals.”

We turn and enter an office, and the captain
squeezes around the desk to sit in an old wooden chair.

“Yeah, that sounds like Mother.” I glance
around the small, dark, cold room. How can anyone sit in a room
like this, day after day? I’d go insane before lunch.

A voice echoes from the hall behind us.
“Where is she? Where? Where did she go?”

Uneven footsteps slap on the stone tiles,
punctuated by the hard clacking of something made of wood or metal
beating on the floor.

Captain Oda leaps to her feet just as a tall,
slender woman sweeps into the doorway. She’s young, dressed in at
least two wool robes of brightly patterned yellow and blue,
displaying jeweled rings on eight fingers, wearing her thick black
hair in tightly braided locks that all end in golden beads that
clink together around her shoulders, and clutching a black cane
with a golden lion’s head handle.

“Your Highness.” The captain bows her
head.

Rajani curtsies. I don’t. Because screw
that.

“Lozen? Where is…?” The newcomer frowns at
me. “Why, you’re not Lozen at all, are you?”

I shrug. “Well, I guess I’m half Lozen,
technically. Sorry to disappoint you. But I’m looking for her too,
and if I find her, I’ll be sure to let her know you’re looking for
her.”

“Your Highness, please forgive Miss Marev.
She is apparently unfamiliar with palace etiquette and protocol,”
Oda says, giving me a stern look.

“Oh, I’m familiar with them,” I tell her. “I
just don’t give a damn. But I’m sure you all have things to do, so
we’ll get out of your hair. Excuse me.” I slip by the tall bit of
royalty into the hall and start walking back the way we came.

“Wait! Stop right there!” The young woman
follows me, limping and clacking on her golden cane.

I don’t slow down. “Something I can do for
you? Princess, is it?”

“Amara Zarinde, Princess of Oyera, ninth in
line to the throne,” she wheezes weakly, but to be fair, she does
wheeze in a very aggressive and angry way. Her voice seems to shift
wildly between the calm, silken tones of a smug aristocrat and the
feeble gasps of a drowning cat.

“Genesee Marev, third love child of a
short-order cook and a spotted maniac.” I hold out my hand to her
as we walk along.

She stares at my hand like she’s never seen
one before, so I reach over and grab her free hand and give it a
good hard shake. She winces.

Her cane slips and she staggers. Luckily
Rajani is right behind her and she steadies her. I keep
walking.

“Miss Marev, I insist that you stop and speak
with me!” she demands as loudly as she can, which is not quite as
commanding as I’m sure she would like to sound.

I stop and glare at her. “Look, Princess, I’m
not my mother. I’m sorry for whatever she did to you, but it’s not
my fault and I’m not going to answer for whatever violent tantrum
she tantrumed around here, okay?”

“What the devil are you ranting about?” She
glares at me, leaning on her cane with a shaking hand. “I know
perfectly well that you’re not your mother, and I have no grievance
with either you or her. But you did say that you were looking for
her, and I know where she’s going. She revealed her destination
just before she left.”

“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.”