Chapter 216: Port in a Storm

Elnie looked up at me with narrowed eyes, but I couldn’t read her expression. I could, however, taste the flash of anger behind them.

“A contract? With you?” She seemed to be fighting a sneer.

I dropped the transformation on just my eyes, getting far too much enjoyment from her sudden flinch. “Can you sense auras?”

Elnie’s brow furrowed, but her eyes glowed—and she gasped, the sound turning into a hiss. “Damnit.”

A commotion at the docks behind us perked my ears and made Elnie and Nelys look. Immediately, I made my eyes look human again and fervently hoped no one else was looking my way enough to see two pinpricks of Sovereign demon aura.

“Belowdecks, now,” Elnie hissed.

“So you’ll make a contract?” She didn’t get to see my smile—she’d already turned on a heel and was walking away. “Is it okay if I do this?” I asked Nelys.

They thought for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. It’s a few minutes—I can wait a few minutes.”

But they had to think about it. Alright, Renna, make this quick.

We hurriedly followed Elnie belowdecks, stopping only once we’d crammed me into a room I’d swear was smaller than in my memory. Not the exact same room, but Elnie’s was of the same sort with a plush-looking hammock strung up in one corner and an assortment of books piled on and around the small, battered-looking desk and chair. A floral smell, incense probably, lingered just thick enough in the air to drown out the ship’s pervasive brine stench.

I sat down on the floor, and raised an eyebrow at Elnie’s odd look. “What? The ceiling’s too damn short, I’d crush your chair, and I’ve no intent to plop myself down and test the strength of your hammock’s hooks.”

Ever the gracious host, Elnie took the chair and left Nelys to stand. “What’s the cost to me? And don’t give me bullshit.”

“The cost? Easy. A promise, unilateral, in the spirit of the intent, to prevent in whatever capacity you can, be it ruler, advisor, rebel, Aloria from taking any militarily aggressive action against Ordia or Edath. Defensive action notwithstanding, of course.” She looked like she was about to speak, so I held up my hand and continued, “And should you or Aloria you be in a position to make such a decision, you will enter at the very least a defensive pact with myself and those who are also allied to me and mine. Fair?”

She blinked, exhaling through her nose. “That is rather a lot to ask, contingent on many factors outside my control and at great risk to not only myself but to my homeland.”

I gave her a hard glare. “A homeland you abandoned—regardless of how true you may think it, I’m sure those you left behind would consider it truth.”

“You…” Teeth showed, and not in a smile before she regained her composure and looked at Nelys with glowing eyes. “All for that much power?”

“More, if I can be convinced.” I tapped my tail on the floor—when did that slip out, oh well.

“How much more?” She watched carefully as two arms became four and I drummed the floor with my claws.

“Will you agree to the above conditions?” I fought the urge to scratch at a horn.

Elnie was tense now, thoughtful. Anger simmered within her, but I knew it wasn’t at me. “What if I break them?”

“Your soul would be mine.” I smiled with a mouth full of razors.

“What would you do with it?”

The question caught me off guard, and my constructed illusion of the dangerous, deal-making demon fell apart as I blinked and spluttered, accidentally biting my tongue. Before I could lose any more face, I gathered at least a couple stray thoughts and put voice to them. “I’m not sure, it depends.”

Wow, great job me.

“You’re still a softie then.” Now it was Elnie’s turn to smile wickedly. Her canines were just a little more pronounced than a human’s.

“I’m still merciful,” I corrected. “Such as my strength provides. I am no longer the naive woman of a year ago.”

“Right.” She made eye contact, lingered, then took a deep breath. “And perhaps I should consider that as true.”

“I’d offer you time to think, but I don’t have enough to give you any. So decide. Now.”

“How much power?” she repeated.

And I had to consider her words carefully. “Enough to be stronger than any human mage, with—”

Elnie cut me off with a gesture. “Humans are weak. No. That will not be sufficient. I require at least twice the strength Nelys’s aura possesses”

I could react to how she cut me off, but I didn’t have time or interest to be petty with her. Alorian princess or not. I considered Nelys’s strength. Giving Elnie that sort of power would greatly increase the damage she could inflict, regardless of how that strength manifested. Moreover, her appearance…

“Such strength may change your appearance.”

“Like with Nelys?”

“I’m right here, you know,” they shot back. “This change was why I made a contract. You might not change.”

I thought of Brynna, and how she’d changed even without power. But her body had also needed rebuilding—horns notwithstanding. And I had it on semi-reliable authority someone had given her my last jar of horn polish, so perhaps on some level she desired the change. Then again, my daughter’s magic changed Duchess Arina very much against her wishes.

“Truthfully,” I replied honestly, “I don’t know if it will. And I don’t know how much the power affects it.”

Elnie’s jaw tightened and the tapping she’d been doing with one foot picked up speed. “Will you or will you not give me the strength?”

“Even if it changes your appearance?”

“I can use magic to hide such changes, or get them removed. If any city has such resources, it would be Liseu or Thiliel.”

I made a mental note to check in on Duchess Arina Kapel, perhaps to see about an answer for her in Liseu.

“Are you certain?” I asked.

She nodded. “As much as it would pain me to lose my nearly perfect appearance, to see the elves of Aloria sink to the level of the short-lived is a depravity I cannot bear to witness. Now will you grant me such strength or not? We are wasting your time here as well as mine.”

Very well then. I stood up and bashed my head into the ceiling with a thud that dented wood. I crouched, pulling my horns out of the two perfect holes they’d formed and sat back down. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

“I would only dare laugh at something unexpected.”

I growled. “You know I will own your soul.”

“Only should I disobey. And I’ve no intention to, although I must say the mutual defense part requires better wording. Unless you’ve no time for such sureties.”

I frowned and looked over at Nelys apologetically.

They sighed and took a seat on the floor. “Don’t take too long, okay?”

“I won’t,” I promised.

Alright Renna, you can do this. I’ve had etiquette lessons, learned from Seyari, and this wasn’t my first time. All I had to do was make my terms clear.

And over the next few minutes we did just that. To my earlier words, the only amendment was to the defensive pact. It would only pertain to threats against Aloria or against me directly, as the source of Elnie’s power. It meant that I couldn’t call on her or Aloria unless Aloria itself was threatened or I was confronting Envy directly.

Fair enough, all things considered. I’d not want to call the people of Astrye to lay their lives on the line for Cavenze. In exchange…

“One percent of my current strength, though more may be bargained for, with additional terms and costs to be decided case by case,” I finished.

Elnie stared at my proffered hand for a long moment before taking it in a firm grasp. “Agreed.”

Like all the others, the contract’s magic glowed crimson like my gem, throwing dancing shadows about the room before settling down into a faint connection. Not like with Nelys—just enough to know that the agreement was in place.

And as the power flowed into Elnie, she stumbled, hands planting onto the desk and knocking books to the floor. Her hair lifted, a glowing crimson outline surrounding her as two small horns pushed their way up from her temples. When she blinked her pupils elongated…

And that was it.

Oh, I could feel the power, and see it literally with aura sight, but Elnie was still undeniably an elf. Demon-blooded at the most, and even then only barely, with horns I’d describe as cute if they were attached to literally anyone but her.

Without speaking, she felt a horn and winced, showing one elongated incisor, and dug through the top drawer of her desk, very nearly ripping the handle off with her new strength. Moments later, she pulled out a small mirror with an ornately carved backing.

She hissed, waved a hand, and I watched an illusion settle over her features. Moments later, the aura of the spell faded, and had I not the connection with her that I did, I doubted I’d be able to tell what happened.

“Acceptable.” Elnie ran two fingers over where her horns had just been and turned to me with human-looking (elf-looking?) eyes and teeth. Teeth which were well exposed from her vicious grin. “This shall be much more satisfying than a letter.”

I stood with a grunt and made for the door, rather than stay and regret the contract. “Remember our terms.” It seemed fitting to say.

Behind me, Elnie laughed as I closed the door.

“Done?” Nelys asked, unsuccessfully hiding their nervousness.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

They glanced at the door—Elnie was still laughing maniacally. “Do you think this was the right choice?”

I took their hand in mine as we made for the exit. “Maybe. I’d trust her over Envy or Avarice in her homeland.”

Nelys frowned. “Let’s just go okay? And… no more delays—please?”

I nodded. “No more delays.”

The two of us kicked off into the sky the moment we reached the top deck. No fires rose as I chanced a look back. The city of Liseu seemed abuzz with life, and the fields surrounding it continued for miles, even as the green faded to brown to sand that tumbled into the sea.

By evening, hills rose, moisture tinged the air, and green began to bloom across the land. Scrub morphed into a veritable cloud forest, and when we saw a city in the distance, we turned out to sea, following the faint pinpricks of stars showing beyond the sun’s haze.

With Nelys holding the map and guiding, we left Ivlaet behind without touching down. Somewhere down there was a restaurant where Sey ordered me too-hot food, and perhaps even a merchant who might remember me. For all the war in Navanaea, it seemed its green northwestern coast hadn’t yet been torn apart.

And as we flew, we zigzagged between islands to ensure our bearings, headed towards Port Princely. And indeed we found it, a jumble of bright buildings against the deep greens of a jungle-covered island. Boats crowded the harbor, and as much as I wanted to stop and reconnect with the tailor who’d made my dress, I didn’t.

No more delays… but perhaps on the way back? Would a few scant minutes truly be remiss, or would this kind of thinking lead down a slippery slope?

I wasn’t sure, but I latched onto the certainty of our current pace and didn’t look back. The evening deepened to night and we continued on under a magnificent canopy of stars.

But the stars were not to last; by evening we were flying through a vicious winter storm, humid and oppressive this far north. Flashes of lightning arced between the clouds. Once certain, we now flew blind.

“Land ahead!” Nelys shouted, straining to be heard over the wind I could barely keep away.

I followed their outstretched finger and saw a lumpy shadow looming over the waves. “Which island?”

“We should land!”

“What?” I shouted back.

“Land!”

“I know—what should we—”

“Wait the storm out!”

I looked down at Nelys, pushing more of my magic into the wind barrier in the hope of lessening the storm’s roar.

“We’ll waste more time being lost!” they shouted.

Oh, yeah that’s pretty obvious. “Alright!” I banked and flew lower toward the island.

A mountain of washed-out color rose to meet us, wind-thrashed jungle whipping about as the waves of a half-moon bay crashed well beyond the tide line. At one end, an immense rock jutted out, pounding surf crashing meters up the black stone. As if on some instinct, I headed for this outcropping’s flat top.

The familiar lip of rock that kept out the worst of the wind. The lookout I could use for ships and threats from the jungle alike.

Out of the vast, out of all the northern ocean, to stumble here in the dark, driving rain…

A lightning flash lit a familiar clearing. And for an instant, I could swear I saw familiar figures around a long-gone campfire. Now, in the distance, the outline of a very familiar cabin rose through the haze of rain and I made for it. Despite my own warmth, a shiver ran down to the tip of my tail; is this happenstance or fate?

The roof was damaged, and there were scratch marks by the door where something curious had stopped by. I wondered if the day marks on the walls were still there, if my bed was, or the few other scavenged things I’d left behind. Here, now, my home of two years looked exactly the same, yet a world apart.

Had it always been so small, so shabby, so unevenly built? I laid a hand on the door, about to undo the sodden rope that held it fast when Nelys’s voice stopped me.

“We can’t just barge in!” they chastised. “We should knock first in case whoever lives here’s around.”

“Oh,” I replied with a tired smile, “that’s alright. I won’t mind a guest.”