Undefined - The Zephyr Book 1 ? (completed)(#Wattys2016)

Chapter 3 - Cello

3 - Cello

Apart from an old lady who's fast asleep and looks dead and a woman with an army of toddlers on the far end, the car is deserted. I slip my rucksack onto the rack and edge into the seat by the window, pressing my cheek to the glass as I look outside. The fields are yellowed from the winter, with patches of snow still dotting the landscape. But the morning sun illuminates everything in such a way that makes it sparkle, as if the fields and sky are made out of molten gold.

Risa climbs into my lap and nuzzles my hand. I dig my fingers into her thick, soft white fur. She makes a sound of pleasure from deep within her throat, not like a cat purring, more like a human snore.

Someone slips into the seat facing me. I wait a moment and then casually lift my head from the window and stare; it's the boy from the other car. A fair-skinned, small-boned boy wearing a broad-rimmed straw hat. He's grinning widely, his green eyes sparkling with excitement. Before I can even find anything to say to him, he removes his hat, revealing a mane of messy red-brown hair that's in desperate need of a haircut.

I straighten in my seat at the sight of the greenish-yellow Jewel at the centre of his forehead.

"Crazy, isn't it?" he asks.

I nod.

"I thought I'd be the only one this far from the Zephyr. You usually don't get any Jewel in these parts, who'd ever imagine two on the same train?"

The boy's voice is high, he's probably not even thirteen yet, and the Jewel he has on his forehead sports a very distinct colour. I can't help feel a slight pinch of jealousy, I had waited and waited for my Jewel to change into a colour - any colour - but here I am, sixteen years old and destined to be an Undefined forever.

"Of course, I was born near Rockdem," the boy continues, "so I guess you'd be the really rare one, where're you from?"

"Aafta," I say.

The boy whistles and shakes his head. "You've come far. What, Aafta is practically in Maral."

"It's farther than Maral, it's in Furget county near the border with the Darabin."

"Maybe that explains how you found an Alprine," muses the boy. "They're almost extinct."

That's a first, my eyebrows shoot up. Yes, I know they're rare, but extinct? I imagined that around the Zephyr, every Jewel had one. Weren't they the mythological familiars of Jewels? In all the old legends about magic and heroism, the Alprines were the size of elephants, and could fly, breathe fire and had spikes on their fluffy tails. Jewels rode them everywhere, stopping wars, saving princesses and generally spreading about love and magic.

Of course, that was in a time when people believed that the Zephyr was magic, and not a source of energy as it is known to be today.

"My name's Quaine, Fellin Quaine." The boy's voice draws me back from my thoughts. I have to take another take on my new companion.

Even I had heard about the Quaine family. It had been the name of some important baron during the expansion of the Medanese empire 800 years ago. It was said that Baron Quaine had received the responsibility of overseeing the Zephyr and for that reason, up till this day, there were always Jewels born into his family. I had always thought it was a legend. My eyes wander from the mane of messy hair to the loose brown corduroy overalls and down to the worn-out muddy sneakers. Nothing to suggest any blue blooded ancestral connections.

"How old are you?" I ask, suddenly curious.

"Fifteen," he says cheerfully. "I was so worried that it would never change colour, I mean, I had only a handful of months left, then two days ago, I wake up in the morning, wash my face, and - " he suddenly stares, realising who he's speaking with, his face turning crimson. "Sorry, I - "