Chapter Sixteen

Half-elves develop poor health as they age, possibly due to being half of the world's most delicate species: human.

--The Handbook of the Ko'Trin Island Elf Heritage Society.

Bathilde's hands gripped the jewels closely, running them between baby-like fingers and tapping them with sharp cherry-colored nails. Hajime bit his lip. He had switched the crystals with smooth, glossy gems that were easier on her skin. The Disease was setting in more; Bathilde didn't recognize her old crystals, and she was so weak that the slightest point cut her skin. Blood was bunching up in the fleshy grooves and peaks of her plump fingers, turning them blue. He had no choice but to remove her prized emerald rings.

"Hajime, bichette," she croaked, squinting in the light, "Is it really that bad?"

"It appears that way," he sighed, pulling another ring from her finger, "I'm sorry, but this is for the best."

"But they're so pretty! I've worn them for years."

"I'm sorry, but you need your circulation."

"Oh, sacrebleu! I will die with my rings on!"

"Just hold your jewels...isn't that enough?"

"For now."

"I remember when we first met," Hajime said, trying to smile, "And you were like this...green light. It's always been your color, but back then, I admit...I wasn't the biggest fan."

"Green?" Bathilde asked.

"Yes. I didn't like green. But...then you sat beside me, talked to me...and after a while, I thought green was actually quite pretty." He chuckled weakly, running a hand over her face. "Then I thought, you were quite pretty."

"I suppose neither of us paid attention to the class," chuckled Bathilde, "What was it-- Herb-Gathering for Beginners?"

"Ah! That was a dry one." Hajime shook his head. "That teacher was too young. She didn't even know that rosemary wreaths kept negative energy away."

Bathilde twisted her mouth for a moment.

"Wait, what?"

"Rosemary," Hajime repeated slowly, rubbing Bathilde's forehead, "The wreaths keep negative energy away."

"Oh." She wrinkled her nose. "I...I'm sorry, ma bichette, but I forgot...."

He rubbed her hand, and the jade stone in it.

"I know. It's all right. Don't strain your mind too much."

"But don't I have to…I don't want to…lose anything."

Hajime shook his head.

"I don't want to lose you, Bathilde."

"You came here knowing. You say you are a rational man, bichette."

"Yes, but…knowing isn't the same as feeling."

He sniffled and took off his glasses. Bathilde propped herself a bit higher and dipped her handkerchief into the flat water-basin at her nightstand. She was exhausted. Everything blurred into a fuzzy glare, and her muscles ached. Her heart softened at Hajime's familiar shape, at the white of his hair, at the faint tan of his face….

"Please, don't overwork yourself," he said.

"It's not overwork," she sighed, "If I do what I planned, and that is giving you my power."

She forced herself up higher, but Hajime gently pulled the covers over her chest.

"Rest," he ordered, "I want you around as long as I can."

"And I want to give you…my gift."

"My dear, that will simply have to wait. You need your rest, remember?"

Bathilde frowned.

"Ma bichette, I am well over one hundred years old. Don't tell me what to do."

"I am, too," he reminded her.

"That's not the point."

"I'm not telling! I simply want to see you live to see another day, that's all."

Bathilde reached for her Book of Shadows and began flipping through it.

"If I die, I die. The Goddess' mercy cannot come fast enough."

"But, Bathilde…what about Pearl?"

Bathilde slammed the book shut.

"Who?"

"Pearl Solstice. Your granddaughter. The one with the writing and the ombré hair…you'll remember her when you see her."

Bathilde frowned again. Hajime shuddered.

"I don't remember having a granddaughter."

Hajime's mouth fell open. Did she really forget Pearl...or the word "granddaughter?!" I really hope it's the latter....

"Do you remember your children?"

Bathilde thought for a moment.

"Two sons. And a daughter, oui. The sons grew bitter. The daughter grew very pretty, lots of long black hair on her head. But did they really…they can't have children!" She recoiled, eyes bulging. "They made The Pact years ago!"

"The Pact?"

"Yes, yes! They refused to marry or have children in order to…care for me."

Hajime exhaled in relief. The full disease hasn't set in yet...at least she remembers something.

"But Amma is married," he said, trying to jog her memory, "To Professor Solstice, remember? And together they have a daughter...."

Bathilde sat up higher, which had to hurt her back. She curled herself into an awkward, jagged angle that made Hajime want to look away. He did, and he felt her dark eyes burn into his sagging neck.

"Look at me," she barked.

"I...I can't see you like this."

"Come on, man of logic-- can't you face a dying woman?"

"I did. We die a bit each day."

"Well, I'm dying faster, so you'd better get on with it!"

"I...I'm not ready."

Bathilde went silent, before sighing.

"Neither am I."

The door cracked open, and a tall, athletic figure entered-- carrying a tray of dried herb tea. Hajime blinked. The white frothy steam shrouded the elfin face like otherworldly clouds.

"Ah, Pearl," Bathilde rasped, her voice crackling, "I'm so glad you could see me."

Pearl smiled down at her ailing grandmother. Her eyes stung with tears; one trickled down her cheek.

"G-Grandma," she breathed, "I-I...I love you.

Bathilde smiled weakly, crinkling the pale, flaky lower half of her face.

"I...have learned so much from you," she rasped, "I love you...so! Pearl, bichette, you have taught me how to live."

Pearl handed her grandmother the teacup.

"There," she said gently, "I want you to drink up."

Bathilde frowned at the teacup, then at Pearl.

"Why do you call me that?"

"Call you what?"

"Grandma? As far as I know, none of my children have any children."

Hajime lifted his thick brows at Pearl, in a warning look. She froze. She was still stunned by this, but at least relieved that Bathilde knew her name.

"Oh...I...guess I was being nice," Pearl stammered, "How is your daughter, Amma?"

It felt strange referring to her mother like this, but Pearl figured that was for the best. It was, as Bathilde smiled a bit bigger-- revealing her gappy front teeth.

"Ahhh, the lamb," she purred elegantly, "Amma is so sweet! So is Professor Solstice! I just wish she didn't surround herself with that...talking bird!"

Pearl chuckled. Grandma Bathilde hated Rudy-- that sounded like her, all right.

"And I…." Grandma breathed, motioning toward Hajime, "I think I have a Prince of my own."

Hajime smirked, but Pearl shuddered at the royal reference.

"Drink your tea, my dear," he soothed, massaging Bathilde's face.

Bathilde took a long swig, before setting the teacup aside. Pearl's stomach lurched. Bathilde's big dark eyes danced, as they always did, but something petrified within them. They glowed, but the glow was softer and duller-- more of a confused, helpless glaze. Pearl inhaled deeply. Is this the Blood-Drying Disease...or something else?

"It's a bit late now," Pearl said, eyeing the clock, "Maybe you should try to sleep, Grandma."

Bathilde set down the coffee, wringing her baby-fat hands.

"Not yet, not yet!" she cried, "What about...what was it again? I was going to give something to you...."

"The transfer of power?"

"Yes. I had to give some to...Hajime. Him. Yes. Did I...." She scratched her head. "Did I give you enough, Pearl?"

"Uh...you gave me the gift of Retrieval. I'm not sure what it is, but...."

Grandma Bathilde blinked.

"Have you retrieved someone's essence?"

"What?"

The old witch leaned back and laughed coolly, causing streams of blood to splatter down her front.

"You have used the magic of a dream-serpent. I can sense it; the light in your eyes is brighter, your voice comes quicker, and the points of your ears are sharper through your hair." Pearl reached up to feel the points, and indeed she felt some exposed skin jutting through her brown waves. "To use a dream-serpent against one is a move of Retrieval, ma bichette. You received someone's mental power, and converted it into a magical one. So much magic is subconscious, and it is reflected in the conscious."

Pearl turned to Hajime for confirmation, and he nodded with a grin. His white teeth were endearingly crooked.

"Thanks, Grandma," she said softly, kissing the old woman's cheek.

Bathilde smiled. She would kiss her back, if she wasn't drooling blood.

"Ma bichette," she purred, settling under the covers, "I don't know what you did, but will you tell me tomorrow?"

Pearl nodded.

"Yes, Grandma."

"And if I'm well enough, I'll transfer my power to Hajime tomorrow."

"I'm sure you'll feel better. Good night, Grandma."

"Good night."

As she slid the door shut, Pearl saw Hajime smiling. His eyes flickered with a soft fire that made her stare. At him, then at Bathilde's empty cup in his hand.

"Did you add something to that tea?" she demanded.

"Of course not! You brewed it."

"Yes, but...I don't know...." Her eyes darted from side to side. "She perked up so well."

"I'll admit it's strange," Hajime added, "Then again, you do not understand the nuances of the Blood-Drying Disease."

"Oh."

"I know she's proud of you. Who wouldn't be?"

"Thanks." Pearl blushed.

Hajime took a sip of his own tea.

"How did you use the dream-serpent? Using the soul's energy is a very serious matter."

Pearl shivered, but said clearly,

"Against the Prince."

Hajime's brows shot up.

"Oh. Oh my."

"I don't really want to talk about it, but you should know he's disgusting-- and I'd cut myself off from the Imperial Family if I were you."

"Now, we can't go around blaming everybody...."

"His parents must be scum, too, if they raised him to turn out like that!"

Hajime sighed and heaved his way toward the mini-kitchen. He grabbed a large, gray-stone basin, and began to fill with water. When it was full, he lifted his fingers and whispered until the water swirled into soft, pale-blue shapes-- leaping foxes, small dancing horses, the faint flicker of a butterfly....

"Wow," Pearl gasped, "That's beautiful."

"It's for the ritual tomorrow. I'm afraid Bathilde will insist on transferring her power-- no matter how bad she feels."

"Really?"

"She has more to give you, and you must be willing to accept."

"O-Of course, Hajime. I like this water magic too much to let it go."

"And she will give me some, as well. It's going to be tough, but I think she likes giving us...not things, but herself."

Pearl nodded, but felt a sharp twinge in her spine. Was Hajime indulging Bathilde...or forcing her to give up power? She wasn't sure, but either way, he seemed to sniffle at any mention of the old witch's condition. She took a deep breath and changed the subject:

"I don't know what Grandma will say, but I have a new friend in Tadashi. He came out from the woods and gave me his number."

The old wizard chuckled softly. Pearl tensed up.

"What's so funny?"

"It seems, after all, you've found your Prince."

XXX

I never meant to pursue Pearl. I mean, I did, but given the difficult circumstances...I wanted to help her. I know she has plenty of support, but...I had this urge to help her. I don't know if it was Mom's encouragement or Dad's death or just my burning desire for freedom and love...but I had to reach out. Had to. I'd met her, after all, and I just couldn't leave her hanging like that. If it becomes more than that, so be it-- but what she needs is a shoulder to cry on.

Loyalty to the Imperials be damned!

--from the diary of Tadashi, fingerprints removed with the hazelbell of Flesh-Fleeing ointment ("If it was good enough for the cave-elves, it's good enough for me!")

"There's not enough evidence, Officer."

"Eh? Inspector...!"

Inspector Nishimoto frowned and carefully adjusted his square glasses, emphasizing the firm lines of his jaw.

"We can take the kitchen boy's word for it, but what else do we have? No fingerprints, no nothing! For all we know, this young man wants some...clout."

Officer Yagami pursed full lips.

"There must be something that connects the Prince to the crime. I just can't see Princess Achara killing herself."

"Neither can I, but we can't act on suspicion alone."

Officer Yagami stood straighter, hoping to be taken seriously.

"They say the Prince is a lecher-- or he has become one."

"Still. What does that prove?"

"N-Nothing."

"Exactly. He may be a pervert, but more men are perverts than murderers."

"What about men who are both?"

"Not now, Yagami."

"He has a thing for girls who are part-elf."

Nishimoto's eyes shot open, and his pointed ears pricked outward.

"Part-elf, you say? I'm part-elf, on my mother's side. My grandmother was a glass-gazing cave-elf called Lady Five Sun, and she could see the future in...!"

"Then why don't you call her to see the Prince's future, then?"

"Ugh! Don't drag me down that rabbit hole!"

"You're about as much of an Alice as I am the Queen of Hearts."

"Maybe if I wore a blonde wig," chuckled the Inspector.

"In your dreams."

"Oh, I bet you dream about that...!"

Officer Yagami poured steaming coffee into his Styrofoam cup.

"How can there be no fingerprints? That has to be more suspicious than the presence of fingerprints."

"The Princess' were detected."

"I'm well aware, Inspector, but don't you think something about this is a bit...unnatural?"

"No more unnatural than the hours you spend generating historical figures'...drag names."

Officer Yagami laughed, lifting a long, slender hand to his mouth.

"I'd rather scoop goldfish than do that again!"

"Didn't you say your mother sent that? She must not be able to detect email spam."

"Oh, she detects more than you think. Just the other day, she detected that you're harsher than a potato with hemorrhoids."

Nishimoto grunted something unintelligible.

"But, Inspector, we should send the teacup back to the lab. There might be something we missed."

Inspector Nishimoto nodded gravely. His nostrils flared, but he had no choice but to accept the young man's words.

"I'll consider it, but no more than I consider the facts."

Officer Yagami nodded back. When he looked outside, he saw the elegant white Palace, and felt a single bead of sweat trickle down his spine.